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About Google Book Search Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web at |http : //books . google . com/ ROSCOE'S SOUTH WALES: WITH THB SCENEEY OF THE RIVEE WYE. M' !'-' ' i\ r. rT> i\ K iJ V J', .'H tj V:;;: J .i 5t'^' '^•^> ^ hm > WANDERINGS AND EXCURSIONS SOUTH WALES, WITH Wilt Sttntrg flf % ^iljer Mit BY THOMAS ROSCOE, ESQ. WITH FIFTY ENGRAVINGS, FBOX DKAWIXGS BY HARDING, FIELDING, COX, CEESWICK, AND CATTKRMOLE, AND AN ACCURATE MAP. LONDON: HENRY G. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 1854. >J CONTENTS. CHAPTEE I. ABBBT8TWITH. CHAPTEB II. HA70D — BTAATii FLOBIDA ABBBT — TBTBAD HBIBIO. CHAPTEE m. WBLBH COTTAOEB—WBDDTNOB — BTTPBBBTITIOKB — MINBS. CHAPTEB IV. PLIirLIlCMOir — LLAKQVBieh-^BHAlADYB — NBW BADKOB. CHAPTEB V. WTB BOOBNBBT FBOH BHAIADTB TO BUILTH — ^ABEBBDWT — OLABBVBT — HAT. CHAPTEB VI. CLITFOBD OABTLB— WYB BOENBBY TO HBBEVOBB— HBBE70BD. CHAPTEB VII. HABIWOOD— BOBB — OOODBIOH COUBT AlfTD CASTLE. CHAPTEB Vin. BOBB TO HOirHOlTTH— COLDWELL BOOKB — KOITMOTJTH — BAGLAin). b Vi CONTENTS. CHAPTER IX. BSDBBOOK — LLAITDOOO — TIKTBRIT — CHIP8T0W — BBIBTOL CHANITEL. CHAPTBE X. TEHBT — LLAWBTEPHAK— LAMPHET — MAKOKBESR. CHAPTER XI. PEMBBOKE — BTACKPOLB COUBT — BT. GOTAK'B — CABEW CABTLE. CHAPTER Xn. MILFOBD HATEN — MILFOBD — HATEBFOBDITEBT — FIBH- GUABD — CABPIGAV. CHAPTER XIII. KILOABBAN— OABMABTHEV — LLAKDILO^KIBWELLT. CHAPTER XIV. BIB BHT8 AP THOMAS. CHAPTER XV. BWAKBEA — IVEATH^MABOAM — BBIDOBND — COWBBIBGE — LLANDAPF — OAEBPHILLT. CHAPTER XVI. POKT Y PBTDD — PONT KEATH YATTOHAK — T8TBA1>PELTE. CHAPTER XVn. TBECA8TLE — BBECON — CBIOKHOITEL — LLANTONt. LIST OF PLATES. 1. TITLE VIGNETTE 2. VIGNETTE OF RUINS 3. ABERYSTWITH opposite paob 8 4. STORM ON COAST 11 6. DEVIL'S BRIDGE 15 6. FALL OF THE RHEIDOL 64 7. RHAJADYR 70 8. VIEW NEAR RHAIADYR 72 9. BUILTH 85 10. DEATH OF LLEWELYN 89 11. HAY 98 12. HEREFORD 100 18. ROSS 109 U. GOODRICH COURT AND CASTLE .. .. 114 15. VIEW FROM GOODRICH OLD COURT .. .. 118 16. PLAN FROM ROSS TO MONMOUTH .. .. 128 17. COLDWELL ROCKS 181 18. NEW WEIR 132 19. MONMOUTH 188 20. RAGLAND CASTLE 140 21. BROCKWEIR 147 22. TINTERN ABBEY (INTEBIOB) 148 28. TINTERN ABBEY 150 ▼Ul LIST OF PLATES. 24. BANAGOR CRAGS Poge 154 25. CHEParrOW castle Ac (fbom wnrDCLirr) .. 157 2«. PLAN FROM MONMOUTH TO CHEPSTOW .. 159 27. CHEPSTOW CASTLE AND BRIDGE 1«1 2«. TENBY •• IW 29. LLANSTEPHAN CASTLE 168 30. BfANORBEER CASTLE 170 81. PEMBROKE CASTLE 175 82. CAREW CASTLE 188 88. MILFORD HAVEN 191 84. CARDIGAN 204 85. KIL6ARRAN CASTLE 207 86. SALMON LEAP ON THE TEIVY 209 37. CARMARTHEN 213 88. VALE OF THE TOWEY 222 89. KIDWELLY CASTLE 288 40. MUMBLE'S LIGHTHOUSE 258 41. CAERPHILLY 279 42. PONT Y PRYDD 284 48. VALE OF NEATH 289 44. FALL OF THE PURTHEN 291 45. CRAIG Y DINAS 292 46. CWM FORTH CAVERN 299 47. PONT PWLL GWYN 804 48. BRECON CHURCH 318 49. LLANTONY ABBEY 825 50. VIGNETTE OF RUINS. ROUTE OF MR. ROSOOE, WITH BOMB OF THE OBJECTS DISEBVINO NOnaB, AND THE TOWKS VILLA0B8, ETC., TO THE SIGHT ABD LEFT. Left. Abeeystwith. CadleBilL OatOe. Terrace, Jt^ghi. Flinlinmioii. Devil's Bridge. Hafod Nanteos Park. Llanayan. Strata Florida. PlinlimmoiL Llangurig. Khaiadtb. Abbey Cwm Hir. Radnor Forest. Radnor. RhiwGraid. lilanwrthwL Newbridge. BUILTH. Kington. Maeslougb. Aberedw. Erwood. Talgarth. EOUTE OK MR. ROSCOE. Ufi. Clifford Castle. Bishop's Wood. Piercefield. Stackpole Court. Hay. Clifford. UXREFOED. Caiiktd/ntl, AcotUmry ffUl, Wilton. Ross. Goodrich. ColdweU Bocks. MomfouTH. Bagland. Bedbrook. Llandogo. Brockweir. Tintem. Chepstow. Aust Cliffs. Bristol Channel. Tenby. Uanstephan. Lamphey. Manorbeer. Pembroke. Pater. St. Govan's Head. Stackpole Court. Carew Castle. MiLFORD. Bight. Bagland Troy Park. Windcliff. Lawrenny. ROUTE OF MR. ROSCOE. XI Left. JUmU, RiglU. St. David's. The Sea. Picton Castle. Fishguard. Newport. The Sea. Cardigan. Kilgarran. Precelly Mountain. Carmarthen. Black Abergwilli Dryslyn Castle. Llakdilo. Carmarthen Bay. The Sea. Dynevor. Carreg Ceunen Castle. Kidwelly. Llanelly. Swansea. Gowerland. Old Castle. Mumbles. Penarth. Neath. Margam. Bridgend. Cowbridge. Swansea Bay. Llantrissant. Cardiff. The Severn. Llandaff. Caerphilly. Pont-y-Prydd. Pont Neath Yaughan. Ystradfelte. Newport. Merthyr. Brecon. CrickhoweL Uangattock* Llantony. Talgarth. WANDERINGS IN SOUTH WALES. CHAPTER I. ABEBTSTWITH. When that sweet April showers with downward shoot The draught of March have pierced unto the root^ And bath^ every vein with liquid power, 'Whose virtue rare engendereth the flower; When Zephyrus also with his fragrant breath Inspired hath in every grove and heath The tender shoots of green, and the young sun Hath in the Ram one half his journey run. And small birds in the trees make melody. And sleep and dream all night with open eye ; Bo nature stirs all energies and ages That folks are bent to go on pilgrimages, And palmers for to wander through strange strands. To sing the holy mass in sundry lands. Chaucbs Modervizxd. South Wales^ the land of superstitions^ and the battle-field of civil strifes, — ^the country in which the rival crowns of the Principality contended for un- divided sway, — ^the historic soil over which the Saxon, Roman, and Norman forces poured the full tide of their bloody course, — may not, perhaps, be so distinctly marked as its neighbour of the North by the prouder features of Nature; but it is, nevertheless, more rich B Z ABERYSTWITH. in thode peculiarities which verify the condition of the human mind in its stages of ignorance, and in its pro- gressive advances towards civilisation, and more rife in those strange incidents which render history most in- teresting to the chronicler, the philosopher, and the general reader. I do not mean by the admission which the preceding remark may seem to sanction, to relinquish any tenable ground of comparison with the sublime realities of the northern part of the Principality; but if the gentle reader, who may have journeyed with me in my former wanderings, will follow me through these records of my spring and summer pilgrimage, I think I shall fur- nish to him such abundant illustrations to attest the grandeur that reigns on the mountains, and the grace that dwells in the valleys of the southern counties of "Wales, as shall place his judgment in that situation of delightful indecision, in which the painter has drawn the celebrated Oarrick betwixt the rival Muses; or, feeling his curiosity stimulated by the time he has read thus far, shall induce him abruptly to say, with the impatient Pandarus, "Come, draw the curtain, and let's see your picture.** The Welsh, among their national apothegms, have this descriptive and poetical triad : — " There are three indispensable requisites of genius: an eye to see na- ture, a heart to love nature, and boldness and per- severance to go along with nature/' Let the reader, then, if he possess an atom of this quality, in whatever distant county of " merry England'^ he may chance to have his domicile, put on his boot of leagues, and in ABERTSTWITH. 3 a trice we shall appear like two waj-wom pilgrims^ threading our way through the mazy streets of that gay and busy watering-place, Aberystwith, and after tarry- ing there awhile, commence together our travels amidst the majestic and beautiful scenes of this ancient land of the Silures and Dimetse. Aberystwith is delightfully situated on the north bank of the Bheidol, in the centre of Cardigan Bay, commanding a sea-view of great extent, and of that sublime beauty inseparable from a marine prospect bounded only by the horizon. The hills of the North Welsh coast are distinctly seen on a clear day stretch- ing far out in the distance, the chain ending with the promontory of Llyn and Bardsey Island; Snowdon, Cader Idris, and the forked summits of the Merioneth- shire hills, are sometimes discerned ; and on the south, the coast may be traced as far as St. David's Head. The whole of this ocean amphitheatre was formerly dry land, and the greater portion remained so until the sixth century, when Gwyddno Garan Hir was the reign- ing prince of the district. It was named Cantrev y Gwaelod, the Lowland hundred, and is mentioned by the Welsh bards and historians (indeed, the tei*ms are synonymous) as being fertile and beautiful in the highest degree, and containing sixteen fortified towns, and a large population. The fine champaign country extended from Harlech to St. David's Head, and was wholly destroyed by an inundation of the sea, the waters of St. George's Channel having burst over their wonted boundaries, and covered its entire extent. Thus was formed the present Bay of Cardigan, whose deep blue waves now roll over many a ruined city and once- B 2 4 ABEHY8TWITH. mighty fortress lying in irretrievable desolation beneath them. The cause of this calamity is attributed by the old historians of Wales to the intoxication of Seithynin^ the son of Saidde^ \rho had the care of the sluices^ and neglected to drop them on the coming in of the tide.* The words of the " old Bard'' may be read as a literal description of the melancholy event just related — "Time baa wrought changes in thii aoctent earth 1 The sea now overlays the land where smiled The early Spring ; — where Spring grew on to Autamoiy And perfumed buds ripened to glossy fruit. Man flourished there, anticipating man 1 And laughing childhood with its thousand pranks; Cities were there, thronged, walled, and turreted; But in one fatal night those babbling tongues Were hushed. The dandng Seasons come no more With flowers and fruit— cities and castles, Domestic halls and altars, warriors and peaceful meD, And houHehold loves, lie grov'ling there amidst The dank sea-weeds. Old Ooean*8 dreary wail Sings the sad story, — that a land is lost" The Castle Hill forms a favourite promenade for tbe visitors at Aberystwith^ from its commanding and pic- turesque situation, sweeping the whole coast^ and look- ing down upon the contiguous mouths of the Ystwith and the Rheidol on one side^ and the beautiful vale whicb descends with the latter river, on the other ; but each year so much reduces its seaward cliffs, that they^ and their hoary ruin-crest, must eventually be swept away. The base of this small promontory is oom- * Mr. Lewis Morris, the antiquary, found on the coast of Merioneth^ a stone in the sands, about a hundred yards below water-mark, with this inscription in Roman letters : " Hie jacet Calixtus Monedo Regi.*' Here lies the boatman to King Gwyddno. ABERYSTWITH. 5 pletely cavemed by the breakers that dash, and foam, and thunder in its hollow sides, making most dread, but "eloquent music,^' and flinging their light spray over the sea-beat cliffs. Aberystwith Castle now consists but of a few frag- ments, among which remain parts of two small towers, and one more lofty, with a gateway. It appears to have been an important post in times of warfare, and is stated to have been originally built by Gilbert de Strongbow, son of Richard de Clare, about the year 1107. Henry I. having given Strongbow permission to win for himself the inheritance of Cadwgan ap Bleddyn, the invader succeeded in his unjust enterprise, and erected two castles, one at Aberystwith, and an- other in Pembrokeshire, for the protection of his ill- gotten territory. In 1111, Prince Gruffydd ap Rhys came over from Ireland, where he had resided from his childhood, and, being suspected of a desire for sove- reignty, he became embroiled with the invaders, and encamped between Llanbadam and Aberystwith to besiege the castle. In his attempt he was defeated by a ruse de guerre of the lieutenant of the earl of Clare, governor of that fortress. The lieutenant, who had been expecting all day the attack of the enemy, sent out some of his skirmishers in the evening towards the bridge which crosses the river, to entice the troops of Gruffydd into an ambuscade which he had prepared. The manoeuvre succeeded. "The Welshmen,'' says their own historian, Powell, "approached and skir- mished with them, and suddenlie issued forth one horseman, and would have passed the bridge, but his horse was wounded with a pike^ and began to faile, 6 ABBET8TWITB. andj as he retnmed to the footemen^ he fell off his hone, and the Welshmen panned him o?er the bridge. When the Englishmen saw that, they fled towards the castcU, and the Welshmen followed to the hill top, and snddenlie the ambush of horsemen, that laid under the hill, thrust betwixt them that had passed orer the bridge, and they that fled turned back with more strength, and so the Welshmen were encompassed on cither side, and the bridge so kept that no rescue could come to them, where they were slain for the most part, being all naked men. Then the rest seeing the great number of the men armed, which they looked not for, turned backe, and departed the countrie.'' In another attack, however, he took and razed the fort, slew the Normans and Saxons who were settled in Cardiganshire, and restored to the Welsh the lands and habitations of which they had been despoiled. The castle was rein- stated by Cadwallader, son of Grufiydd ap Conan, and destroyed by his brother, Owen Gwyneth. It continued to experience all the changeful fortune of predatory warfare, alternately fortified and overthrown. Doubt- less it was no very difficult matter to demolish the for- tifications then used ; but, in course of time, a more powerful master possessed it, and even his provisions for its defence were of little avail against the desperate and enthusiastic struggles of expiring liberty. Edward I. rebuilt this castle in the year 1277, and retnmed to England in triumph; but the rulers of the marches exercised too great severities for peace long to continue between the prince of Wales and the king of England. The year before the subjection of the Welsh was scaled, they numbered among their many brief but ▲BBBT8TWITH. 7 brilliant saccesses^ the capture of this newly-erected English fortress. Many more of the invader's strong- holds were at the same time taken by the Welsb^ and all the partisans of foreign domination were severely harassed throughout the country. In the year 1404, Aberystwith Castle was taken by Owen Glyndwr. In the time of Charles I.^ the Parliament permitted it to be used as a mint ; some of the pieces of money coined there are frequent in antiquarians^ collections, and were of silver from the neighbouring mines. During all the Welsh wars, this fortress was considered of great im- portance, and, daring the civil wars, was regarded as a place of considerable strength. The last and most destructive siege it endured was in the time of the Pro- tectorship^ when it was bombarded by the Parliamen- tary troops, while Mr. Bushel held it for the Royalists.* The besiegers occupied a high mount, called Pen-dinas, on the opposite side of the Rheidol, where Prince Bhys had formerly made an intrenchment; and since the overthrow the castle then received, a heap of ruins only has been left to tell of its ancient strength and glory. About a mile firom Aberystwith, on the banks of the * Mr. Bushel establuhed a mint at this place, under license from the king, for coining his silver to defray the current expenses of Lis yarious works. This gentleman was once the servant of Sir Francis Bacon. He became afterwards the proprietor of the silver-mines in this neigh- bourhood ; and such were his immense profits, that he made King Charles a present of a regiment of horse, and clothed his whole armj. Besides these, he furnished to that monarch a loan of £40,000 towards his necessities, which was afterwards converted into a gift; and when the unfortunate king was sore pressed, he raised a regiment among his miners at his own charge. 8 ABERTSTWITH. Rheidol, are the remains of an old fortified mansion, which the yulgar call Owen Oljmdwr's Palace, hot which was supposed to have been erected by the monks of Llanbadaru Fawr, the site of whose monastery was contiguous. Of the date of this building nothing now is certainly known. It is believed to have been the residence of the early princes of Wales ; for it is men- tioned by the bard Eineon ap Owgan, who flourished in 1244, in his ode on Llewelyn the Great : — " Hia spear flashes in the hand accuBtomed to warlike deeds ; It kills, and puts his enemies to flight, by the palace of the BheidoL* Of this monastery nothing remains save the church, which is of great, antiquity, and most beautifully situated in the lovely vale of the Rheidol. It is believed by some, that subterranean passages led from this monastery to the fortified mansion above men- tioned, Flas Crug, and likewise to Aberystwith Castle ; but I need hardly remark, that none are known to exist at present. Llanbadam — the great church of St. Badarn — is supposed to be the Mauritanea where St. Padam or Patemus founded a monastery and an episcopal see in the sixth qpntury. St. Padam seems to have been a most ill-used person, for it is recorded that he not only performed the functions of his office without reward, but alleviated the distresses of the poor as far as his ability permitted ; and yet these ungrateful people killed their kind-hearted archbishop, and, as a punishment for their crime, the bishopric was sunk in that of St. David, though in the time of Giraldus there was still an abbey under the jurisdiction of a layman. "Vilify not thy parish priest," is a Welsh proverb arising out of this act of cruelty, and ABEBTSTWITH. 9 consequent degradation of this see. " There never was a good person of them since/' is another provincial sayings and shows how deeply the inhabitants of this place had fallen in the estimation of their coantrymen. The monuments in Llanbadarn Church must not be forgotten, amongst which is one, consisting of a long flat stone in the chancel, to the memory of Lewis Morris, the Welsh antiquary. The records of this excellent man's life display the struggles of genius and perseverance amidst difiSculties and poverty, in their onward path to fame and respectability, with which he was ultimately rewarded. He was, at the same time, in relation to Welsh literature, critic and historian, poet and musician. In this latter capacity, he taught Mr. Parry, the blind bard, to strike his harp to the simple notes of his native land, and to awaken, with such exquisite effect, those thrilling melodies which slept amongst the chords of his favourite instrument. He died at the age of sixty-three, and left his valuable collection of manuscripts to the Welsh Charity School, in Gray's-Inn Lane, London. Llanbadarn was a city in 987, and was destroyed by the Danes in the reign of Meredydd ap Owen. In now consists chiefly of low, mean c6ttages, with a few of a better description, and one or two good houses ; but at a distance is a very pretty-looking village, in one of the loveliest valleys imaginable. The Rheidol winds through it in a suc- cession of graceful bends, beneath rich hanging woods, craggy mountains, and fair pastures; with here and there a white cottage peering from among the trees, and sending up its curling blue smoke, as if to tempt the mimic pencil of the artist. The Rheidol is crossed near Llanbadarn by a small I 10 ABXETBTWITH. bridge, and at Abemtwith by one of five arcbea, over- looking the harbour, which is small and inconvenient, and the bar at its mouth prevents vessels of any size entering, except at spring tides. Many lives are lost, and others constantly endangered, for want of a eom« paratively trifling expenditure in rendering this harbour a safe and commodious one : and when we consider the immense advantages the town and neighbourhood would derive firom an improvement so much needed, and so readily to be accomplished, it does seem a marvellous thing, in these enterprising times, that the evil should be tolerated so long. The town of Aberystwith certainly has not much to engage the attention of the tourist; irregular streets, running in a maze-like confusion, compose its greater part; and these, with sorrow be it said, are thickly adorned with alehouse-signs. The Marine Terrace, however, is an exceedingly agreeable promenade, form- ing a semicircle on the margin of the sea, and consisting chiefly of comfortable lodging-houses for the accommo- dation of visitors. Bounded on the north end by the high rock called Craiglais, or Constitution Hill, and on the south by the castle ruins, it commands in front an uninterrupted view of the ocean, which, at Aberyst- with, shows its grandest characteristics. A stiff gale blew for some days after my arrival, and, as I sat in my quiet study, on the terrace, I could see the grand waves come rolling in, each like a huge living moun- tain, bending its proud head over the cavernous depth below, before taking its last landward leap, in scattered, feathery foam; another and another close behind, in endless succession, seemed as if the ocean's boundaries ^^^mr 1 \ \ \ N ,1 1 ^^ A M^ 1 1 ■ ^^VH ^V^l M 1] 1 ^^^^^^^^^^r I %:^ * f H ^^^^^B l^JL . ^ 1 ( IklV 1 ■ ^^^^ \ i -rr^T 1 !■■ ^H ^^^^^^^^^K f T ' vOi a i ► J ABEBTSTWITH. 11 bad become too narrow for tbe world of waters they contain, and I almost expected Neptune's roaring sea^ lions to overleap their allotted bonrn, and give a re- enactment of tbe Cantrev y Gwaelod tragedy. In the midst of a dark storm one evening, a sloop, seen through the drifting rain and haze, like a spectre of the sea, appeared about three miles out, making for the harbour, with her sails set, and running before the wind at a gallant rate through a tremendous sea, which seemed alternately to engulf her in its dark abysses, and fling her aloft like a toy on the waves' white crest. A more tempestuous evening has seldom been known here, and the most intense anxiety pervaded all classes lest the vessel should be lost, of which there seemed but too great probability. Hundreds of persons, both visitors and inhabitants of Aberystwith, were seen hastening to the Harbour : and not a few ladies braved the storm, though scarcely able to proceed, from the excessive violence of the wind. Every spot commanding a view of the sloop was crowded by eager and anxious spectators; some trembling for the fate of husbands, brothers, or friends, who they believed were on board, — and screaming vrith agony, as the huge waves half- hid the objects of their solicitude from view* But she came along swiftly and unswervingly, — " She walked the waters like a tluDg of life^ And seemed to dare the elements to strife.** As she neared the bar, the anxiety of the assembled crowd became doubly intense, and yet more painful when the shrill screams of children were heard from the vessel, through all the deep roaring of the winds 12 ABKRT8TWITH. and waves. ADother minute of breatUess fear, and the perilous bar was cleared — ^all lives were safe ! The captain and owner of the sloop had been her pilot, and the screams heard were from two of his own children, who had been lashed to the mast during the gale. I have since been informed that he is esteemed the most skilful sailor in the country ; and the gallant bearing of his beautiful little vessel well proves the truth of such report. Since writing the preceding, I have heard with great pleasure that some of the leading country gentlemen and residents in Aberystwith have most liberally com- menced a subscription for the purpose of improving the harbour, and thus lessening the danger to vessels entering it. A fantastic-looking building, half Gothic castle, half Italian villa, stands between the church and the sea ; it was built by the late Sir Uvedale Price, but is now used as a lodging-house. Ghost-stories are becoming rare even in Cambria's mystic land ; but this castle- house, as it is termed, is said to be patronized by a spiritual resident in the form of a "White Lady,'* who is, by some imaginative persons, supposed to occupy one of its octagon towers. I have very dili- gently perambulated about the lady's haunts, at all hours of the day, and when the dim twilight gave a supernatural colouring even to common-place person- ages; but my seaside musings have never been spec- trally discomposed, and so I cannot add the precious testimony of eyewitness-ship to this "White Lady" romance. The church of Aberystwith is a modem structure. ABERYSTWITH. 13 and possesses no beauty^ but good accommodation for its numerous congregation. Adjoining the burial- ground is a pleasant garden^ the sweet perfumes from which often greeted me while roaming near the gaily- hued inclosure. Gardens are generally rare and meagre near the seashore; but this seems guarded by some kind fairy^ who sheds the softest tints and sweetest fragrance on her favourites. Wild flowers, ''the philanthropists of their race/' are abundant on the hills around; delicate harebeUs, waving on their light stems, proud foxgloves, glowing purple heather, and golden gorse, shine out in starry beauty from bank and moorland : — " And are they not the stars of earth f Doth not Our memory of their bright and Taried forms Wind hack to childhood's days of guileless sporty When these &miliar friends of later years A beauty and a mysteiy remained 1 And were they not to infant eyes more dear £*en than their starry kindred t For one glance Of wondering love we lifted to the vault Of the o'er-orbed sky, have we not bent Full many a glance of pleased aflfection down To the green field, starred over with its hosts Of daisies, countless as the blades of grass 'Midst which they seemed to look and laugh at us?"* The beach generally presents an amusing appearance to a stranger, and although I have been a performer in the scene, it afforded me equal entertainment. There * From " The Bomance of Nature ; or, the Flower-Seasons illus- trated," by Louisa Anne Twamley, now Mrs. Meredith. The poems in this highly interesting and elegant work are of great beauty, and are distinguished for original thought and bold and expressive imagery, as well as for a peculiarly musical flow of language. 14 ABERTSTWTTP. are occasionally found here Taluable pebbles of agate, jasper, &c., and many small crystals; accordingly, every one who visits Aberystwith expects to carry away a world of wealth " of his or her own picking up ;** and this picking-up fimcy becomes a serious business. On propitious 'days there appears on the shining beach an army of treasure-seekers, each with a small basket to hold the jewels; and there they are, rank and file, from mom till dewy eve, with bending backs and downcast eyes ! while hands, feet, parasols, camp-stools, and oyster-shells, are enlisted into the service. Let any Aberystwith visitor gainsay it who will, this in the favourite amusement for all ages, sizes, sexes, and classes, — from the peer to the postilion who brought him the last stage, and from the delicate invalid lady to the little barefooted Welsh wench up to her knees in the surf. It becomes an inveterate habit; one would think some sea-sprite threw a spell over us so soon as our footsteps press the enchanted strand, for no one escapes the infliction — and lumbago, rheumatism, and other consequent ills too often follow the avaricious exploit. For these visitors, however, there is a speedy and luxurious cure in the excellent and commodious warm baths, of which there are several on the terrace, and in other parts of the town; also a chalybeate spring at a short distance. Nor is Aberystwith without the usual public amuse- ments of a fashionable watering-place, for those whose health or inclination leads them to seek the gay as well as the picturesque : here are balls, races, theatri- cals, &;c. ; and to all who are fortunate in finding kind friends and pleasant acquaintance among the residents ABEBYSTWITH. 15 or yisitors^ this may well be selected as a summer retreat for successive years. The bathing is excellent ; and the number of pleasure-boats always employed, proves how much the sea-excursions in the neighbour- hood are enjoyed. The excellent fishing in the Rheidol and the Ystwith, tempting to disciples of quaint plea- sant old Isaac Walton, calls forth many a merry party of anglers to the delicious vales of these winding rivers. It appears singular that the Ystwith should give its name to the town — Aber-Ysitoith, the mouth of the Ystwith, — since the Bheidol flows through it, and only joins the Ystwith at some distance, when they both fall into the sea together. The town in this situation was called Aber-Rheidol about the time of our First Henry, but when the name was changed is not correctly known ; it was also called Llanbadam Gaerog, or the fortified Llanbadam, from its nearly adjoining that once great city. Some delightful excursions may be made from Aber- ystwith, among the grand and romantic scenery of Cardigan's mountains and glens. First in beauty as in popularity, is the oft-praised, but indescribable spot, where the Devil's Bridge frowns over its sublime and perilous chasm. The road from Aberystwith to the bridge is rejiete with beauty of varied character. On quitting the town, we ascend steep hills, wearisome alike to man and horse, till, from the summit, is gained a view of the lovely vale of the Rheidol, with its fan- tastic winding stream, flowing in silvery, snake-like corves throughout, and "the everlasting hills'' on either side lifting their hoary summits to ,the sky; ' while in the inland distance " hir.s above hiUs, and alps 16 ADERYSTWITH. on alps arise/^ with Plinlimmon's many-beaconed head, turbaned with clouds high above them aD, like the monarch of the mountain realm that lies in proud sub- jection around his mighty throne. Gradually the valley narrows as we recede from the sea, until, on abruptly turning round a singular conical rock, the strange and wondrously beautiful scene, which has so long alike baffled the descriptive pen and the mimic pencil, bursts in all its grandeur on the delighted eye. The glen of the Rheidol, narrowed to a ravine, down which a roaring cataract pours its inexhaustible waters, lies before the gazer — and the terrific chasm of the Mynach yawns beneath his feet at a dizzy depth below. It is a scene to be feasted on, trembled at, and dreamed of, sleeping and waking ; but not to be preconceived, painted, or described. The bridge con- sists of two arches, one immediately above the other. The lower arch is of great antiquity, and supposed to have been built by the monks of Ystrad Flur, or Strata Florida Abbey ; but antiquarians are not agreed on this point, as tradition fixes the erection of the bridge in 1087, and the Abbey of Strata Florida was not founded till 1164. Giraldus Cambrensis mentions having passed over it in 1188, when preaching the crusades with Baldwin, archbishop of Canterbury. The wild and stupendous scenery surrounding this spot greatly en- hances the terrific grandeur of the ravine, and no doubt had its share in the origin of the vulgar denomination it has received ; all appearances both in art and nature, which were beyond the comprehension of the simple and superstitious people of past dark ages, were without hesitation attributed to " his majesty of ebon wing ;" ADEaYSTWITH. 17 and many are the sublime and extraordinary scenes popularly resigned to his patronage. Grand as is the view from the bridge itself, when the half-dizzy gazer looks down into the dread abyss, yet he is then* unable to form any adequate idea of the Tastness, the gloomy magnificence of the scene, as seen from below. Passing over the bridge from the inn, and descending a steep and rather dangerous path to the right hand, the wonderful chasm over which the arches are thrown is viewed to the greatest advantage. It appears a narrow and perpendicular fissure in a solid rock, one hundred and fourteen feet in height ;> the singular old arch spans it about twenty feet below the new one, and a double gloom is thus given to the natu- rally dark abyss, at the bottom of which the impetuous Mynach foams and boils along, roaring as if in wrath at the mighty rocks which gird in its chafed and rapid waters. It is a fearful scene ! The black and riven precipitous rock, which reared its form of darkness before me, seemed to shut out all of calm and beauty which the world contained, and to spread its own region of wild desolation around. If a traveller have only time to descend one path at the Devil^s Bridge, let him choose this. In many situations he may see cascades, but the extraordinary chasm at this place is one of Nature's inexplicable freaks, and a single specimen is all she vouchsafes us. Although the depth of the fissure, at the least computation, is one hundred and fourteen feet, and may be probably more, the width of the aperture, in some places, does not exceed fifteen inches; it is, therefore, evidently impossible that the river could be the original cause of the chasm, as sup- c 18 ABERTSTVITH. posed by some tourists; thoagh its waters having found an outlet, they have no doubt continued to widen and deepen their confined channel. After regaining the bridge, another hazardous path is descended on the opposite side, through a wood, and round an abrupt point of rock, to view the four falls of the Mynach, when it escapes from its imprisoning ravine, and rushes down to meet the Rheidol, which is seen rolling in a magnificent cascade between two grand swelling hills in an opposite direction. The third path, down which the guide conducts visitors, is formed by the side of the falls, and com- mands very beautiful views of them individually; the first is twenty-four feet, the second fifty-six, the third eighteen, and the fourth, or grand cataract, one hun- dred and ten. In this admeasurement no allowance is made for the inclined direction of the river in many parts; the total height, from the bridge to the level of the stream when it joins the Bheidol, is about five hundred feet. At the jut of the lowest fall in the rock is a cave, said to have been inhabited by robbers, two brothers and a sister, called Plant Mat, or Plant Fat, who used to steal and sell the cattle of their neigh- bours, and whose retreat was not discovered for many years. The entrance being just sufficient to make darkness visible, and admitting but one at a time, they were able to defend it against hundreds. At length, however, they were taken, after having committed a murder, for which they were tried, condemned, and executed. The sides of the dingles are richly wooded, and the interlacing foliage of the trees sometimes almost embowers the cataract, while the stupendous hills. ABEKYSTWITH. 19 that rise high on either side^ are decked with bright clusters of mountain-blossoms ; heath and wild thyme shed a purple glow over the hoary crags^ and the differ- ent yellow and white flowers gem the verdant carpet with '' treasures of silver and gold ; " for the spray, incessantly flung up by the foaming waters, falls in a gentle shower around, *^ making the ground one eme- rald.^' As I sat contemplating the magnificent scene before me, where the last great plunge throws the water one hundred and ten feet down the rugged chasm, I felt how accurately descriptive are Byron's lines on the Falls of Terni ; they echo the spirit-voices that we seem to hear around us in such a scene. "The roar of waters! — from, the headlong height Velino cleaves the waTe-wom precipice; The hIL of waters!— rapid as the light; The flashing mass foams, shaking the ahyss ; The hell of waters I where they howl and hiss And boil in endless torture!" After the fatigues of these ascents and descents from and to the *' Acherontic stream," the comforts of the Hafod Arms Inn are right welcome ; and a wanderer may spend a pleasant and profitable evening in '^ chew- ing the cud of sweet and bitter fancies" arising out of the scenes with which his senses have been fed during the day. 2 i CHAPTER II. HAFOO — STRATA FLORIDA ABBEY — YSTRAD MEIRIO. Here balmy air^ and iprings as ether dear. Fresh dowDS and limpid rills, and daisied meads. Delight the eje, reanimate the heart, And on the florid cheek emboss the rose "Mid sweetest dimples and uufeign6d smiles. Here shepherd swains, attentive to their charge, Distent o'er hillocks green, or mountains hnge. Mantled with purple heath. YoTAOS OF LiFB, by the Rev. David Lloyd, The usual custom being to visit Hafod from the DeviFs Bridge^ and I^ like a systematic and orderly wanderer, having followed the example of my prede- cessors in the vagrant line, my readers, in like manner, will be good enough to follow me while I retrace my steps to that /onner '' paradise of dainty devices." The road to Hafod lies through a wildly mountainous tract of country, at first overlooking the deep dingle where the foaming Mynach tears its angry way; and then over the brow of a hill commanding an extensive and richly-varied prospect. At the summit of this hill, an arch is thrown across the road, and being seen for a considerable distance on either side, it forms a pictu- resque object in the landscape ; though to a stranger it holds out a deceitfid promise of some more interesting BAFOD. 21 and ancient fabric than the mere ornamental creation of a neighbouring landowner. From this arch the road descends somewhat steeply, and a tarn to the right leads to a lodge, at which the grounds of Hafod are entered. Here the view becomes extremely beautiful; richly-wooded hills rise around, leaving a valley of lawns and groves, through which the Ystwith takes its ever-varying course, now plunging down a rocky ravine in a sheet of white and glittering foam — now flowing darkly along, shadowed by the graceful branches of the mountain-ash, and the delicate birken spray, while the sturdy king of the woods, the massive-foliaged oak, groups more heavily and richly with the glossy Spanish chestnut and the darksome fir. A lovely road along this lawny vale at one graceful sweep brings the visitor in front of the mansion, the exterior of which is the only part that the present owner suffers the eyes of curious tourists to be edified by examining; and this, though sufficiently elegant for the residence of both the affluent and tasteful, certainly possesses none of the magical attributes which certain writers are ambitious to invest it with. The original mansion of Hafod was nearly destroyed by fire, in 1807, with many of its valuable manuscripts, books, and pictures. A new mansion, however, arose under the genius of its late tasteful proprietor, equal in extent to the former one, which, after his death, with his estate, passed into the hands of trustees. The description of Hafod, so laboriously essayed by some Mr. Cumberland, I find quoted in almost every guide-book; of course it is considered the neplus ultra of the sublime and beautiful ; and as my readers will 23 HAFOD. look in vain for so dainty a paragraph in my homely composition^ I cannot refuse them the advantage of perusing this choice specimen : — " Wales and its bor- ders, both North and South, abound at intervals with fine things : Piercefield has grounds of great magnifi- cence, and wonderfully picturesque beauty ; Downton Castle has a delicious woody vale, most tastefully managed; Llangollen is brilliant; the banks of the Conway savagely grand ; Barmouth romantically rural ; the great Pistyll Rhayader horribly wild; Rhayader Wennol gay, and gloriously irregular; but at Hafod I find the efiects of all in one circle,'' &c. &c. The grounds of Hafod are highly favoured by nature, in variety of form ; and Art has lent her improving hand so gracefully and naturally, that we forget she has so much to claim in the beauty of the place : but its late proprietor, and we might almost say creator, well knew how to blend the wild and the cultivated in harmonious union. Colonel Johnes, the late lamented and excellent owner of this immense estate, planted nearly three millions of trees upon bare heathery hills, where now rich hanging woods form so striking a con- trast to the adjacent scenery. Under his fostering and unwearied care, the spot he selected to work his wizard- like change upon, became such, as, in some measure, to warrant even the extravagant praise bestowed on it ; but now, the beauty is fast waning in the neglect and general absence of its present proprietor ; the pleasant and well-kept walks have become quagmires, and where a garden once shed its many perfumes on the air, inviting the approach of wandering guests, now a wilderness of tall grass and rank dandelions fills the STRATA FLORIDA ABBEY. 28 space. The stranger-loving bird, too, of which travel- lers have spoken, with its triple yellow crest, that used to delight in making the acquaintance of all pilgrims to Hafod, and to entertain them with its imitative notes, is dead. The beautiful cascades, the rocks, the woods, and the gentle wild-flowers, still wear their wonted looks of grandeur and loveliness; but where the hand of man should give its aid in maintaining the improvements of art, all is gone to decay. In Cwm Ystwith, a valley separated from Hafod by a mountain-ridge^ are some valuable lead-mines, belonging to the earl of Lisbume j but the impracticable appearance of the entrance to their subterranean labyrinths, com- pelled me to disappoint the curiosity I generally gratify by a " voyage to the interior." The heaps of dark grey ore lying all around; the damp, dirty, attire of the miners; and the herbless desolation of the scene, may well be described as forming a startling contrast to the rich, verdant, and beautiful grounds so near. The inducements for inland excursions from Aberyst- with are not very numerous; but among the places renowned in olden times, to which I had long resolved on bending my steps, while sojourning in the vicinity, was the Abbey of Strata Florida, little of which now remains. Passing out of Aberystwith to the south, I traversed a richly-wooded district, interspersed with smiling corn- fields, and whitewashed cottages peeping contentedly from the bosky dells or broomy braes around. The hedges were decked with clusters of spring flowers, greeting me kindly with their sweet odour; and fox- gloves, mallows, and the delicate dancing harebeUs, 24 CR088WOOD. enamelling the banks beneath the canopy of green leaves^ made the road seem a pleasant garden-walk. "All thiDgB rejoiced beneftth the rnn ; tbe weeds, The meadows, and the oornfielda, and the reeds, The willow leaves that glanced in the light breese. And the finn foliage of the lai^r trees." A few miles from Aberystwith, I gained a fine view of Nanteos Park, in a little valley inclosed by rising hills, with a seaward prospect of considerable extent. Continuing my way through woods, and pretty English- looking scenery for a while, I descended to the vale of the Ystwith, a scene of great beauty. The river wind- ing in Wye-like curves and horseshoe bends, occupies the middle of the flat, and on either side, the banks, gradually rising, are embroidered, as it were, with fields, woods, gardens, and cottages with their light blue peat-smoke rising gracefully "above the green elms;" while mountains, piled one on another, complete the picture. Beyond, where the valley narrows, is Crosswood, the seat of the earl of Lisbume, surrounded with plantations, some of which skirt the Ystwith, and overhang its rocky and deep bed, which is here clasped by an elegant wooden bridge, rustic-looking, yet per- fectly commodious, — qualities not often united. Wend- ing still onwards, I crossed the Ystwith, at the bridge of Llanavan, a village (if such it can be called), consisting of a few wretched cabins ; and then up a high hill I pursued my weary way. Soon after gaining compara- tively level ground, in passing through a stream which traversed the road to a mill, I heard the sounds of fall- ing water apparently at a short distance. Quitting the road, and descending a rugged pathway on the right of PWLL CARADOC. 25 it^ I soon came in view of a great slanting slate rock, down which the mill-stream falls in one grand un- broken cascade, into a dark deep pool, whence it gur- gles quietly along, under a turfy bank, to a second mill at a short distance, built below the level of the water, which, after turning the wheel, is flung ofP in a beau- tiful cascade, and falling into a wooded ravine, goes plunging down the rocks to join the main stream in the glen j for this busy working streamlet is but a branch of the larger body of water, which is guiltless of appli- cation to useful purposes. From the turf-bank abready mentioned, I could see indistinctly, that a vast glen lay far below, and could hear the sound of many waters, echoed by the precipitous rocks aroimd. Having sum- moned one of the barefooted urchins from a neigh- bouring cabin to guide me, I accompanied him through the pathless underwood and tangled herbage which skirted the sides of the ravine, and at length found myself in the bed of the river, standing on slippery fragments of rock, round which the waters foamed and boiled in loud roaring rapids. Before, beside, all around me, as it seemed, mountain-torrents rushed down the immense wall of rock, which here closes the glen in a kind of narrow amphitheatre, and is richly adorned, though not wholly clothed with wood. Five distinct streams were in view at once, all leaping from a di2zy height above me, and rolling down in infinite variety of forms ; some falling by places over the bare shelves of rock, spread out in a broad clear sheet of water; others, half-hidden by the verdant dewy foliage of the trees, sprang but partially into sight, scattering afar their feathery foam, like streams of light amid the 26 PWLL CARADOC. gloom of this darksome glen. The roar of the ialling water, in its rocky and confined basin, reyerberated by the high cliffs that wall it on three sides, is deafening; and after remaining in this damp and perilous position, nntil both eyes and ears besought a respite in quieter scenes, I climbed once more into upper air, and found a large assembly of ''Natives'' collected to see the strange being who had so unceremoniously introduced himself to a scene unsought, and nearly unknown, in the neighbourhood it adorns. The miller popped his white face out at his mill-door, with as suspicious a glance as if he feared my design was to elope with the objects of my admiration instanter, and even the auld wives suspended the swift evolutions of their knitting- pins, in wonder at my invasion ; so little sought is this beautiful spot, though only the same distance from Aberystwith as the Devil's Bridge, 'to which people flock by scores. Not that I mean to imply any com- parUon of the two scenes — they are essentially differ- ent in character; but surely, when one is so universally visited, some lovers of the grand and the beautiful in nature might add the other to their list of Cardigan- shire pilgrimages. When at the place, I could not dis- tinctly understand the name given it by the bare- legged guide, but have since learned that the dell is called PwU Caradoc, t. a. Caradoc's or Caractacus's Pool, a Welsh prince of that name having fallen over the precipice, and been killed. Tradition has two ver- sions of the story ; one says that the prince was hunt- ing, and leaped into the terrific chasm accidentally, while in pursuit of the quarry ; the other says that he ''rushed over:'' but, as I am unwilling to suspect the PWLL CAEADOC. 37 prince of anythiDg like/efo de se, I gave credence to the fonner supposition. This fall is not only unsought by visitors^ but it is not even named by any guide-book or tour which I have yet seen ; and I have consulted many for the pur- pose of finding if its history or existence was known to the authors. The water of this^ and most other mountain-streams in the vicinity^ is of a dark-brown colour^ though as clear as crystal. Even the foam of a large body of it is yellow, instead of white. This singular appearance is caused by the turbaries through which the streams flow, and in which many of them rise. The Bheidol, Ystwith, Mynach, Teivy, all I have observed here, wearlhe russet-colour. Proceeding onwards over many streams whose course crossed the road, having no other bridge than a tree and a rail for passengers, I passed the village of Pout Ehyvendigaid,-4n^KcJ, the Blessed or Holy ford, so called by the good monks of the olden time ; a substantial bridge is now the commodious substitute for the ancient ford, and over it is passed the Teivy, in which river, as Fluellyn would say, '^ there be good salmons.^' Ystrad Fflur is an extensive valley of excellent meadow land, very retiredly situated, and chiefly remarkable now for the ruins of its once grand and richly-eudowed monas- tery, called by the Welsh, Mynachlog Ystrad Fflur, — ^the abbey of the blooming or fertile plain, now strangely Latinized into Strata Florida. According to Dugdale, the edifice of which we now see the remains, was built by the abbot, in the year 1294; but the structure raised by Rhys ap Gruffydd stood about two miles 28 STRATA FLOIUDA ADDEY. distant to the south-west, upon a plain near the river Fflur, where an old building, now used aa a bam, is called IlSn Monachlog, — ^the old abbey. Camden says the abbey was a Cistercian hoose, founded by Rhys ap Gruffydd, and Meredith, his brother. Leland, Farmer, and Dugdale, mention it as an establishment of Cluniacs, founded by Rhys ap Tewdwr, in the time of William the Conqueror. '' Who shall decide when doctors disagree V Certain it is that the abbey was immensely rich, being valued at the Dissolution at upwards of one thousand two hundred pounds ; and was the chief repository of what- ever was learned or civilized in former turbulent times. Its hospitals and cells were established in every direc- tion, and it divided with the Abbey of Conway the honourable charge of depositing and carrying on the records of the Principality. To the monks of Strata Florida we are chiefly indebted for the accurate " History of Wales,*' from the year 1157, till the final defeat and death of the last Llewelyn, during which period these reverend fathers were the bearers of their prince's remonstrance, and interceded with the archbishops of York and Canter- bury for their good offices in relieving him from the insults and oppressions of the Marchers. The earliest and most authentic account we have of the kings of Britain, in the form of a regular history, is a MS. in the British, or Armorican language, called " Brut y Brenhinoedd,'' brought here from Bretagne in France, by Gualter, archdeacon of Oxford, about the year 1100. Geoffrey of Monmouth's History is a free translation of this, though some moderns have STRATA FLORIDA ABBEY. 29 doubted the authenticity^ and even the existencej of the original^ accusing Geoffrey of attempting to impose his own fables on the world as a genuine portion of British history. But however fabulous his book may appear to those unacquainted with the nature of the times on which it treats^ there certainly is an ancient copy still extant, called " Brut y BreiJiinoedd/' pre- served in the library of Mr. Davies^ of Llanerch^ Den- bighshire.''^ This MS. includes the history of Wales to the year 700; from this period Caradoc of Llan- carven took it up^ and faithfully continued it from the most authentic documents to the year 1157. Several copies of Caradoc were deposited in different archives^ and^ amongst others^ in those of Ystrad Fflur. The monks of this house carefully recorded every memorable event subsequent to that period^ till the fatal defeat of the last prince of British blood who was able to assert the independence of his country^ A.D. 1282. This abbey seems to have been a grand mausoleum for the royal and noble in Wales^ many princes and renowned persons having been here interred; but to me its cemetery gained most interest from being the last resting-place of the celebrated Welsh poet Davydd ap Gwilim, many of whose compositions are replete with grace^ fancy, and a most keen and satirical spirit. So far we have looked only at the past : the present appearance of this once mighty edifice serves as a humiliating lesson to human pride and power. The glory of ancient days has passed away; — the princely abbey has mouldered into dustj and been * Erans. 30 STRATA FLORIDA ABBST* destroyed piecemeal for the sake of its materials, with which many a squalid cabin in the neighbourhood has been created. In a sloTcnly and wilderness-like garden, adjoining the present churchyard, stands a circular gateway of extreme beauty; in three dififerent ''Guides'' it is termed severally, Gothic, Saxon, and Norman.* The earring consists of six simple flutings, one within another, cut in such fine relief, that at a short distance it has the appearance of an arcade ; over the centre of the arch is a carved stone, apparently representing a double crosier-head. In the wall adjoining this gate- way, a pointed window still remains, nearly overgrown with ivy and a variety of small shrubs, which have taken root in the crumbling stone. A fine elder-bush, gay and firagrant with its large clustIsh language; and from his poems the modem literary dialect has been chiefly formed. Returning to Pont Rhyvendigaid, I halted at the small hostelry^ where a rampant red lion swings and creeks its invitation to man and beast. Ushered into the inn's " best parlour/' I amused myself by observing the multifarious decorations of this state apartment. Around the walls hung various Scripture subjects, most woefully caricatured by the artist. The mantel- piece was decorated with wax and crockery-ware effigies of the same class, and the grate's costume was truly original. Carefully pinned to a curtain hung a very knowing lace cap, with borders of that extraordinary width and abundance seen only among the Welsh belles, and most beautifully ''got up," as the ladies say. On a corner table, too, lay a hat, which, by its gloss, newness, and clever shape, evidently intended to invite the cap to church the following Sunday ; and the entrance of a tight, blooming, dark-eyed, and sprightly- looking Welsh girl with my intended repast, soon enabled my calculating curiosity to supply a face worthy of the becoming national costume. I like the dress of the bonny Wekh lassies, and trust they will one, and great was the amazement at their meeting, when each looked upon the other as an intruder upon her privacy. At length the trick was diacoTered, and an ebullition of rage followed, in which they all agreed upon the death of their laithleBs lover on the first opportunity. The bard, who was witness to the whole, contrived, by some extem- poraneous verses, which he pronounced from his hiding-place, to raise a spirit of jealousy amongst bis fair admirers ; their rage was now turned upon each other, and, in the confusion that followed, he contrived toxoake a safe retreat. YSTRAD MEIRIO. 85' be long in yielding to the insipid innovations of modem millkery. They would resign their piquant black hats with no little reluctance^ did they know how flat and unbecoming the flippant silk bonnets^ displayed by some of them^ look in comparison. The hat is not worn by the peasantry alone^ for I have seen not a few spruce beavers accompanied by rich silk dresses^ fashionable kerchiefs, and silk stockings. While sojourning at Aberystwith, I greatly enjoyed seeing the farmers' comely wives and pretty daughters riding to market with their sacks of corn over the saddle, for here the women sell small quantities of grain at market, and with the produce purchase the various articles required for domestic use, which are stowed in the corn-sack on their return ; and often have my eyes detected the form of a new teapot, or the circumference of a frying-pan, in these bags-of-all-work. In returning from Pont Rhyvendigaid, I repassed the village of Ystrad Meirig, celebrated for its excellent grammar-school, which attained to such celebrity as to be called the Welsh College. The founder of this establishment was Edward Richards, a native of this parish. His father was a tailor, and kept the village public house. In his youth he was indolent and way- ward, till the sudden death of his brother, from a fall over a precipice in Maen Arthur Woods, roused his mind to serious reflection, and determined him upon that severe course of study which raised his fame to the highest point of scholarship. He continued the school which had been commenced by his predecessor, and which was carried on in the church, as may be frequently observed in the Principality; and having n 2 86 TSTRAD MEIRIO. brought it into great eminence, he confirmed its exist- ence after his decease by the endowment of his pro- perty. Mr. Richards was a poet of the first order, and his pastorals, written after the models of Theocritus and Virgil, are said to be " the most polished composi- tions in the Welsh tongue." Many most eminent men, both of past and present times, have received the greater portion of their education at this school; amongst whom was that great scholar and bard, Evan Evans, although, from its appearance now, I fear ita fame is on the decline. The situation of Ystrad Meirig, though not possessed of that pre-eminent grandeur and beauty which distin- guish so many spots in Cardiganshire, is one of much interest, and the immediate neighbourhood is partially wooded, and abounds with fine craggy mountains and ro- mantic cwms. The castle of Ystrad Meirig was formerly an important out-post to Aberystwith, built, like that larger fortress, by the Norman adventurer Gilbert de Strongbow, and afforded timely succour to the usurping party, in the day of danger, when Prince Gruffydd ap Ehys was on the point of retrieving the rights of the natives. Florence of Worcester mentions Gruffydd ap Rhys to have died by the deceitful practice of his wife. In 1187, on the accession of Owain Gwyneth to the supremacy of Wales, his first exploit was to over- throw the enemy's stronghold at Ystrad Meirig. In 1150, the sons of Gruffydd ap Rhys, having lost many of their brave men at the successful siege of Llan- rhysted, marched to this place, where they re-fortified and manned the castle. It was of considerable import- ance in all the subsequent wars, tiU in the year 1208 THE TEIVY. 37 it was destroyed by its owner^ that it might not fall into the hands of Llewelyn ap Jorwerth. After this period it does not appear to be mentioned in history. The southern part of Cardiganshire is chiefly com- posed of wide-spreading mountains^ vast^ grand, and dreary, with a very scanty population. The banks of the rivers, as in every instance, afford the finest scenery, and the most fertile land ; the Teivy will well reward the wanderer for the time and toil of a lengthened pilgrimage. " This water,'* says old Giraldus, " farre passeth al the ryvers of Wales in plentie of salmons, and al the ryvers in Ingland and Wales for stoare of beavers, or otters. The salmon hath his name, a saltu, of leaping, for his propertie is to swimme against the streame; and, when he findeth any stoppe, he taketh his taile in his mouth, and so casting his bodie into a circle, loseth himself sodainly again, and as a twigge that is bowed both endes together, and sodainly resolved springeth withal an heighte, and getteth over it.'* The beaver was formerly abundant in the Teivy, though centuries have now passed since its extermina- tion. The former existence of this animal in this neighbourhood is amply proved by the laws of Howel Ddu, the authenticity of which is unquestioned; the price of a beaver's skin is there set down, and in differ- ent parts of Wales are ponds and lakes which have borne the name of beavers' pools from time immemorial ; such as Llyn-yr-Afanc, or Lake of Beavers, in the vicinity of Llanidloes. It is evident that beavers existed here in the time of Giraldus, whose account of their manner of constructing their cabins is too accurate to have been compiled from hearsay or tra- 88 TEE TEIVT. dition; and ''he is no contemptible authority, though a politic conformity to the tastes of his readers might, perhaps, induce him, in some instances, rather to con- sider what they would admire, than his own accuracy. Had the assertion related to anything miraculous, or anything involving the interests of the Church or the Crusade J we might reasonably suspect him of an undue inclination; but, in the present case, he had some reputation to support as a topographer, and no interest to warp him as a churchman/' Old Burton, in his notice of this county, gives the following account of this curious animal : — " In the river Teivy beavers were formerly found; a creature living both by land and water, having the two fore feet like a dog, wherewith he runs on land, and the two hinder like a goose, with which he swims; his broad tail served for a rudder: but now none are found." The goats in the present day seem to have met the fate of the wolves and beavers of past eras, it being a most rare event to see one of these animals in a wild state, even among the mountain retreats of Cambria ; a fate I very much regret, both for their beauty, nationality, and usefulness to the peasantry. But the poor goats oflfend the owners of newly springing planta- tions, by their penchant for nice young sprouts and leaves of trees, as a little variety in their diet of whin and heather; and their native haunts are now occupied by the far less picturesque but more harmless sheep, which 80 far emulate the athletic accomplishments of their predecessors, that they leap from crag to crag, with their dirty, torn, neglected fleeces dangling in strange and ludicrous disorder about them, with as much agility as LLTN TEIVY. 89 their bearded relatives. I have frequently seen the mountain sheep trailing after them their ragged coats in a train of a yard or two in lengthy and heartily abused the careless indolence of their owners^ while I pitied the miserable plight of the poor bramble-shorn animals. On a mountain two miles north-east of Strata Flo- rida, are five lakes, of which Llyn Teivy is the prin- cipal. It is said to be unfathomable, and is encom- passed by a high and perpendicular ridge, which at once feeds and confiues its everlasting waters. It has been by some travellers supposed to be a crater, but the stones around bear no marks of volcanic action. Leland, in his quaint way, says — " Of al the pools, none stondeth in so rokky and stony soile as Tyve doth, that hath withyn hym many stonis. The ground al about Tyve, and a great mile towards Stratfler, is horrible, with the sight of bare stonis, as cregeryri mountaines be. Llin Tyve is fed fro hyer places with a little broket, and issueth out again by a smauUe gut. Ther is in it veri good troutes and elys, and no other fisch.'^* This group of lakes forms one of the chief natural curiosities of this dreary district. On leaving Llyn Teivy, a few minutes' walk attains the summit of the mountain, and a view of four more lakes, each within a few yards of the other. The largest cannot be much less in circumference than Llyn Teivy, and is of a diflferent form, being narrow in the middle. The smallest is circular, occupying the highest ground, and in appearance much like a crater; its circumference is * The Teivy is tbe small stream which issues from the lake, aftei^ wards* swelling to an important river. 40 LLTN VATHBT CRIN0LA8. about three quarters of a mile. These lakes are all said to be fathomless^ and their extraordinary effect is much heightened by the strong degree of agitation to which they are subjected by their exposure; — ^the scene, though totally desolate, is very grand. This is the highest ground in Cardiganshire, and the prospect most extensive ; but the cluster of moimtains, on the most elevated of which are the lakes, reaches so far, as entirely to obscure the vales between the near and distant hills : all is wild and rugged, with Plinlim- mon and Cader Idris rearing their lofty heads in the north. The prospect on the south-west extends to the high grounds about Cardigan, which appear distinctly; and beyond those to the sea, which is less clearly de- fined. Between Pont Bhy vendigaid and Castle Inon, is Llyn Vathey CringlAs, about a mile in circumference, of a beautiful oblong form. This lake is said to occupy the site of the ancient city of Tregaron,^ which is popularly believed to have been " swallowed up" in some convul- sion of nature. That such catastrophes have occurred, we have ample proofs ; but according to Welsh tradi- tion, almost every pool has a ruined city beneath its waters. Llyn Savaddan, or Brecknock Mere, in the county of Brecon, is by some antiquaries imagined to cover the ancient city of Loventium ; and the circum- stance of the old high-roads all tending to that spot * The present Tillage of Tregaron 10 about three miles distant from the lake, and contains bat little that is interesting, except its old church, and some ancient inscriptions in the cLui chyard, especially one to Mailyr, the son of Rhywallan ab Gwyn, who fell in the battle of Caruo, in 1010. LLYN VATHEY CBINGLA8 — CELLAN. 41 seems to render probable the supposition : but^ grant- ing this to be the case, it appears more than likely that the tradition of an ingulfed city has become asso- ciated with other places in which no ground for the belief ever existed, in the same manner that we find some of our old English legends related, in precisely the same terms, in celebration of places wide apart. The chain of hills in this neighbourhood runs without a single break from Llanbeder to Bishop's Castle, in Shropshire, a space of about sixty miles. It might be traversed on horseback almost without the interruption of a single gate or fence, and probably without seeing a human being. On the high lands in this neighbourhood are nume- rous tumuli and cist-vaens. In the parish of Cellan is a large circular moated tumulus, on the summit of which is animmeuse stone, or rather rock, eleven yards in diameter, called LlSch Cynon. On the mountain to the north of the river Frwd are two cist-vaens called " beddau,'' or graves, and on the mountain on the south are two more, one of which is called Bedd y Vorwyn, or the Virgin's Grave. Sir S. Meyrick had these opened ; their form was oblong, consisting of four stones, and in the centre, a little tumulus of earth and stones. After clearing this away, there appeared a stratum of gravel, then a layer of sand, and under that burnt ashes of bones and wood lying on a bed of clay, which had been placed upon the rock. The depth of each was about three feet, and from two to four feet long. A very great number of the carnau or carneddau may be seen on the mountains in this parish; but two extremely large ones, upon a very high mountain near the road 42 SOTTTH CARDIGAN. leading from Llanvair to Llanycrwys^ are most con- spicuous. These, and another called Fair Camau, consist of heaps of large stones, in all probability the graves of warlike chiefs who fell near the spot. Other great stones, placed on adjacent mountains, have most likely been erected in commemoration of a victory. Near the road leading to Llanycrwys are the remains of a Druidical structure : several of the huge stones formerly belonging to it lie scattered around. Two ancient intrenchments, one circular, the other oval, lie in the vicinity, with numerous cameddau. Few districts pre- sent more of interest for the research and reflection of the antiquary than the now dreary and almost untrod- den wilds of South Cardigan ; formerly — ^as the gigantic remains of other days fully attest — the scenes of priestly power, royal magnificence, and all the ''pomp and circumstance^' of dazzling, desolating war. CHAPTER III. WELSH COTTAGES — ^WEDDINGS — ^SUPBRSTITIONS— MINES. Though poor the peaaani's hut, his feasts though imall. He finds his little lot the lot of all ; Sees DO contiguous palace rear its head, To shame the meanness of his humble shed ; No costly lord the sumptuous banquet deal. To make him loathe his vegetable meal. — Goldsmith. Iv this were an age of black-art and gramoury^ instead of enlightenment and steam^ and the wandering traveller likely to be whisked from place to place by the powers of enchantment instead of the more straight- forward aid of railroads and stage-coaches^ we might well imagine the amazement of some economical, orderly English farmer, on being suddenly introduced to the scenes of wild, uncultivated mountain-land, which the rambler in Wales is ever familiar with. But not even the change in the general aspect of the country would astonish him so much as the squalid misery and dirt of the cottages, or rather cabins, of the peasantry. They may be placed on an equality with the worst specimens of Irish habitations, at least very many of them. In the districts of Cardiganshire, the dark slate rock of the mountains furnishes a good material for the walls 41 COTTAGES. of these hovels^ and of sucli they are mostly built^ with apertures of the smallest possible dimensions for win- dows, which may or may not be supplied with a pane or two of green glass; but if they are, they are perma- nently fastened up, an opening window not being found in a cot of this degree ; and the accumulation of dirt renders them nearly useless in admitting light. The floor, either mud or rough slate pavement, is gene- rally the abiding-place of as many pigs, ducks, and sheep-dogs as the owners possess, all lying at ease, or walking freely in and out ; — pigs and children, be it understood, partaking the comfort of the hearth, and nestling in affectionate companionship among the heaps of unswept ashes that lie around the turf fire, — the smoke from which always declines going up the chim- ney, when there is one ; for these things, deemed neces- sary with us, are here quite matters of taste, some cabins being decorated with low wattle appendage to the gable, while others have only a hole in that quarter, which serves to let in the wind and rain, without letting out the smoke, which invariably makes its exit by the door; and in passing through a " village'^ of these cot- tages, the vapour from opposite doors rises into an aerial archway, beneath which the uninitiated traveller coughs and grumbles along. The wattled chimneys I have mentioned, are sometimes truly ludicrous in their position; no doubt they are originally as erect as the rest of the building, but their general condition is such as to remind one of opera-dancers, striving to preserve their equilibrium in most extraordinary deviations from the perpendicular. Sometimes, fairly twisted round by the wind, they stick in the roof by one peg of the COTTAGES. 45 basket-work, and look very like a pirouette; at others they may be seen lifted from their proper place, and seeming in the act of a coupS; and so happily are things managed, that opposite or next-door neighbours nod and set to each other with all the friendliness imagin- able, seeming ready to change sides the first opportu- nity. Yet, amid all this filth, and, as we consider, misery, the female part of the cottagers are as spruce in their national costume on Sundays and holidays, and as proud of their assortment of crockery-ware, of which an unnecessary number of jugs forms an indis- pensable part, as if surrounded with all the more sub- stantial comforts of life. To look at the habitations, one would marvel how a clean mob-cap, or a decent coat, could belong to people so apparently lost to all notion of comfort and neatness. Their cheerfulness and con- tent under privations that would not be endured by an English labourer, while it surprises, almost provokes us, as seeming to place a formidable bar in the way of future improvement. Flummery, buttermilk, and coarse barley bread, form much of their food ; I have often seen the labourers of respectable farmers dining out of a bowl of flummery (a sour jelly made from oat-husks), with such thankful content, as made the remembered fare of an English farm kitchen seem absolutely sump- tuous by the contrast; and I have sometimes thought that a temporary residence among these cheerful, hard-feeding mountaineers might be a salutary lesson to some of the croaking consumers of beef, bacon, pudding, and ale, in England. Far be it for me to assert, that abstinence from the last-mentioned in- dulgence forms a general part of the South Cambrian 46 WEDDINGS. character; I would that I could say so with truth, but the ancestral beverage of cwrw is a thing anciently and well beloved. Weddings, generally the scenes of much mirth and wassailing among the rustic population, are here accom- panied by some singular customs, which, though not so universally practised as in former years, deserve men- tion, as they are far from becoming obsolete. The bidding, as it is termed, takes place about a week before the day of ceremony, the bans having been pub- lished as in England. The bidder, or official inviter of the guests, goes from house to house with his wand of peeled willow, garlanded with ribbons, and standing in the middle of the floor, repeats a long lesson with great formality, enumerating the various preparations, and requesting the attendance of the family he has called upon. The following is an old form of invita- tion, read by the bidder in Llanbadam, some years since, literally translated: — "The intention of the bidder is this : with kindness and amity, with decency and liberality, for Einion Owain and Llio Elys, he invites you to come with your good-will on the plate ; bring current money ; a shilling, or two, or three, or four, or five ; with cheese and butter. We invite the husband and wife, and children, and men-servants, from the greatest to the least. Come there early ; you shall have victuals freely, and drink cheap, stools to sit on, and fish if we can catch them; but if not, hold us excusable, and they will attend on you when you call on them, in return.^' Saturday is fixed as the day of marriage, and Friday is allotted to bring home the furniture of the woman. WEDDINGS. 47 generally an oak chesty a feather bed^ clothes^ and crockery. The man provides a bedstead^ table^ dresser^ and chairs. The evening is employed in receiving presents of money^ cheese^ and butter at the man's house^ from his friends^ and at the woman's house from her friends; this is called purse and girdle, an ancient British custom. All the presents are set down on paper, and when demanded they are to be returned. On Saturday, the friends of the man come on horse- back to his house, to the number of fifty or a hundred, eating and drinking at his cost, making their presents, and repaying those made at their weddings. Ten or twenty of the best mounted then accompany the bride- groom to the house of his intended, to demand her of her friends, who, with the lady, appear as uncomplying as possible, and much Welsh poetry is employed by way of argument, in some such fashion as this : — "Open windows, open doors, A.nd with flowers strew the floors; Heap the hearth with blazing wood. Load the spit with festal food ; The chrochon* on its hook be placed. And tap a barrel of the best I For this is O wain's wedding day; Now bring the fair one forth, I pray." At length the father appears admitting and welcoming his guests ; they alight, take refreshment, and proceed to church. The girl mounts behind her father, mother, or friend, upon the swiftest horse they can procure, and gallops off with the intended husband, and all the wed- ding guests riding after in full chase. ^' Over the hills * The laige three-legged iron pot used Sox cooking. 48 WEDDINGS. and far away '' go these bride-huntersj till the girl or her steed grows weary^ and she suffers herself to be quietly conducted to church and married. All the party then return to the married couple's house^ eating at free cost^ but finding their own liquor. The sale of the wedding presents of cheese and butter oflen produces from ten to twenty or thirty pounds^ which^ with the money also presented^ is a seasonable help to the young housekeepers. Many of my Welsh friends tell me they have often joined the wedding troop^ and that the chase is a most animated and amusing scene^ the bride leading the cavalcade of merry equestrians in any di- rection, and the whole party scouring the country like mad folks. We are apt to marvel at accounts of odd ceremonies and customs in other lands, without knowing half the peculiar habits and ancient rites still practised within the boundaries of our own country ; many of which, especially among the Welsh, may be traced to the highest antiquity. The familiar superstitions of Wales are becoming gradually fainter and fainter ; but it is notorious that in this county they were more rife than in almost any other in Wales, and that not only amongst the uneducated portion of its inhabitants, but including those who, from their rank in society, might have been considered supe* rior to the delusions of their age. John Lewis, Esq., a magistrate, residing near Aberystwith, writing, in the year 1656, to a clergyman, relates several stories of apparitions, and the Canwyll Corph, or corpse candles, with a minuteness and simplicity which show his entire belief in his narratives. The Rev. John Davis, a SUPERSTITIONS. 49 minister, in Cardiganshire, has written down the order which seems to regulate this superstition : — '' We call them/' saith he, " corpse candles, not that we see any- thing besides the light, but yet it resembles a material candlelight, as much as eggs do eggs, only they some- times appear and instantly disappear : for, if one comes near them, or on the way against them, unto him they vanish ; but presently appear behind him, and hold on their course. If it be a little candle, pale and bluish, then follows the corpse of an abortive, or some infant. If a big one, then the corpse of some one come to age. If two, three, or more, great and little, be seen toge- ther, then so many and such corpse will follow together. If two candles come from divers places, and be seen to meet, the corpse will do the like. If any of these candles seem to turn out of the way or path that leads to the church, the following corpse will be found to turn in some place, for the avoiding some dirty lane, plash, &c.*' The author of the Mountain Decameron gives some graphic descriptions of several other popular super- stitions, which I shall transcribe. '' The superstitions of Wales form no part of the popular ^oe/ry of our age; yet there exist many grandly imaginative. How few know anything about our Cwn Annwn,* that is, ' Dogs of the sky,* but which their office, as assigned, would warrant us to call the Bloodhounds of Souls I by earthly analogy. Sudden fires trail along the heavens at the moment of a dying person's body and soul taking leave, and that light is no other than that fire which each of * Annum— the bottmim ahys8; EeU, in the ancient sense, as the ^ Doom " of all apirite. £ i 50 SUPERSTITIONS. that terrible pack always has following after like a chain ; and sounds, like the jellings of an earthly hunt, may be heard in the dumbness of midnight, and which hunting is no less than the chase of the parting soul by these fiends of the sky, as it flics towards heaven's gate before them, — the flight for nothing less than eternal life or death! What superstition afiecting mortal life and its brevity, and its briefer pains, can compare in terror, in wildness, or sublimity with this ? With these bowlings and huntings for immortal souls, these wildfires trailed by demon bloodhounds, across all the deep*blue chase of the midnight heavens, and the issue of this dread hunting never revealed to the mourner, upgazing firom the gate of the house of mourning ? " More terrible and forcible in mournful conception is the strange being that crosses the twilight path of the Welsh mountaineer, and which warns him by its mere presence, of a death in his house near at hand. The Cyoewraeth is the likeness of a woman, frightfully cadaverous of visage, bringing all the festering horror of a three weeks* burial, in its grim yet not utterly disfeatured loathsomeness, abroad into the world of life, divulging the foulest secrets of the grave ! This farm stands direct in some lonesome path of the startled person, tossing her long grisly arms in the air, and wringing her earthy lengths of wasted hand, and, shaking down her already worm-beset hair over her eye-holes, and their sunken dead-lights fixed upon his, steady as the basilisk's on its prey, but gloomy, — sets up such a cry of wild weeping, and utters two words SUPERSTITIONS. 51 only, so terrible in their power^ that they for the mo- ment ai*rest the moving blood in the veins of the hearer — ^the Welsh words signifjring 'Oh, my wife !' or, 'Oh, my hnsband I ' according to the sex of the short-lived object of its fatal forewarning. "There exists in Wales, also, some vague, super- stitious idea of that tremendous kind which gives effect to the (Edipus, and to Greek tragedy in general, — the belief in the occasional operation of an overruling destiny, impelling its victims to forbidden deeds, and hence preparing for the really innocent, but apparently guilty, outcasts of human sympathy, penal dooms, and hideous pitfalls of perdition, imforeseen and inevitable ! The recurrence of crimes and fates in certain doomed families, may be remarked in English as well as Welsh annals, but I don^t know that any instance, equally striking with what in this country has fallen under my own notice, has been recorded, though such may^ doubtless, have reaUy occurred. " What I allude to is, the existence of one family, in which, for several generations, the behests of law have been working tragedies and dedmating its members. The broad features of the fatal fortunes of these persons, as I learned from a clergyman of their dis- trict, are these: — ^They exhibit in early life the very best dispositions. Their first adult years in rustic servitude, or under the paternal roof, fulfil that early promise. Their first attachment is followed by a first step in crime — they swerve from the happy and flowered path of their infantine innocence, their youthful industry — ^but it is marriage that seals their dismal £ 2 I 62 SUPEK8TITION8. doom. It matters not how prudent, how well-omened that union may appear — ^thc neit, and no distant, step is — in blood! *' An old Brecknockshire magistrate in Builth, now deceased, told me, that he had himself, in the course of his life, known three capital convictions of persons belonging to this stock, had seen two of these (with an interval) hanging in chains. One odd fact which he added was perhaps more strange than all. A woman — either widow or mother, he forgot which — sate knitting stockings in the sun, at the foot of the gibbet, which detained from its parent earth the ghastly carcase of so near a friend. It stood on a comer of a hilly heath, not far from her home. '' Charity might perhaps ascribe this seeming apathy to its contrary, excess of feeling, a morbid melancholy, with as much probability of truth, as to callousness in the woman. If we should go further, and connect the act with the seeming dark predestination which had consigned the victim to that sad barred and wind-beat grave in the air, demanding the passing traveller's curse instead of prayer ; — if we should, I say, see in that lone woman's selecting the many-nailed gibbet-tree, with its putrefied burthen or skeleton, for her summer seat, instead of the green tree, with its pure fresh head of beauty and shade — only a passive resignation to the congenital curse — ^to the fate inflicted by it on her seared heart — the image becomes not anlj affecting, but almost sublime I " So late as the earlier part of the last century, that strange character of a stranger superstition, known by the name of 'The Sin-Eater,' was not unknown in SUPERSTITIONS. 63 Wales. This was some desperate being, who (unless we suppose him an unbeliever), being past redemption, lost to all hope of salvation, did, for a slight reward, or to gratify the relatives of one lying dead, take on his own soul all the sins of the deceased by a formal act, sometimes receiving confession during life, and bar- gaining for the burthens thus to be imposed on his already laden soul. ** Mr. Fosbroke, in an account of the town of Boss, quotes a letter which speaks of a 'Sin-Eater,' who 'lived by Boss highway,' and is described as a ' gaunt, ghastly, lean, miserable, poor rascal.' ''A gentleman, who lived a little before the time of this dark superstition becoming obsolete, gives us this brief account of what is believed to have been the last 'Sin-Eater of Wales/ "'I got lost,' says he, 'near nightfall, after being landed by the ferry-boat from the Aber of Dovey, on the Cardiganshire side of that estuary. A black tur- bary of great extent divided me from the road. I was cautioned to ride far round this pitchy bog, for no horse ever ventured among the peat-pits — the whole being a quaking morass. In truth, its look was enough, under a black evening, to keep me off, even without peril of being swallowed, man and horse. "'At last, thanks to my stars, the good hard rock of a rough road rung to my horse's hoof, and I saw a cottage taper, as ghastly as the Canwyll Corph, at a distance. The house was on a high point and turn of road, overlooking all those many acres of hollow ground. Just as I came up, hoping lodging, I heard sounds of wailing within, and soon a woman came out 64 8X7FBR8TITIONS. into the dead niglit, late as it was, and cried a name to the top pitch of her wild Toice, that seemed one I had heard weeping indoors. When I looked in, there lay a corpse of a man, with a plate of salt holding a hit of hread, placed on its breast. The woman was shouting to the Sin-Eater to come and do his office; that is, to eat the bread, lay his hand on the dead breast, place the dead man's on his own, after making a sign of the cross, and then praying for a transfer of all pains or penances from that paidoned dead man for ever, to him that more than dead alive, himself in his death of soul, but not of its pains, for ever and for ever.' '' This is the traveller's account of this incident. He had the curiosity to wait, and saw at last the motion of what seemed a foggy meteor moving toward their standing-point. After waiting long, he caught a far- out shout in reply to the woman's long unanswered, till she kindled on the high road's point the straw of her husband's late bed — ^the usual signal of a death in the house. " ' The Sin-Eater,' he was told, ' lived alone in a hovel made of sea- wreck, and nails of such, between sea- marsh and that dim bog, where few could approach by day, none dare by night; whether for the footing, or the great fear, or at least awe, which all felt of that recluse.' " The most pleasant part of the superstitions of Wales is that which is connected with the " Little People," or Fairies, playing, as they were wont to do, all sorts of merry pranks amongst the inhabitants; dancing by moonlight in blue petticoats, and paying the dairy- maids with silver pennies for the privilege of skimming SUPERSTITIONS. 65 their milk-bowls. Dryden laments^ and so do we, that " In yain the dairy now with mint is dreflsed ; — The dairymaid expects no fiiiry guest To skim the bowls, and after pay the feast. She sighs ; for ah ! she shakes her stores in vain^ Ko silver penqy to reward her pain." I was much surprised at finding the national instru- ment^ the harp^ so little cultivated in the diflferent spots I visited in Cardiganshire; in fact, one blind woman was the only person I heard play upon it; Nancy Pelix, of Gogerddan, to whose neat little cottage many parties make an afternoon's excursion from Aberystwith, and listen to the simple, beautiful old Welsh melodies which the sightless harper delights to hear praised. Nancy Felix is not young, nor has she ever been beautiful; but her calm, uneducated, yet almost dignified manners, true kind-heartedness, and cheerful resignation to her grievous calamity, rendered her to me a most interesting being. By her playing to parties, she gains support for herself and two sisters; her pretty cottage and neatly-kept garden (so diflferent to her neighbours') are the kind gifts of her good patron Mr. Bryse, of Gogerddan. The view from her little garden is one of most rare beauty, commanding the Vale of the Rheidol, and various ranges of cragged and woody hills, changing from vivid sunlight to dim shadow as the air-hung clouds glide silently across the landscape. Who can stand beside that sightless harper^ and gaze on the glory of such a scene, without feeling how precious is the blessing of which she is deprived,-^ without fervently thanking God for the enjoyment of this most inestimable boon ? I 56 MINES. The copper and lead mines so abundant in Cardigan- shire, invariably lie in the most sterile and rugged dis- tricts, and the rich veins of ore are embedded in the hardest and most compact rock, rendering the working of them immensely laborious. The history of these mines, and the various restrictions and regulations to which their possessors have been subjected by the sovereigns of Britain, form a most interesting subject of research : I can here make but^ a brief allusion to the circumstances. For some centuries after the con- quest, the Crown asserted its prerogative in the owner- ship of all mines and minerals. No person could search for ore, unless empowered by the royal grant ; and the conditions imposed were at the discretion of the reign- ing monarch. The owner of the ground in which a mine was discovered derived no profit from its being worked, till the beginning of Henry VI. 's reign, when the duke of Bedford, regent of France, obtained a lease of all the gold and silver mines within the kingdom for ten years, on payment of a tenth to the church, a fifteenth to the king, and a twentieth to the proprietor of the land. In the year 1452, Henry VI. engaged three miners from the Continent, with their assistants, to work his mines, so profoundly ignorant were the English then of the arts and sciences, from which they now derive so large a portion of their wealth and celebrity. Queen Elizabeth too, by the advice of her council, sent for some experienced Germans to carry on the business of the mines, as well as that of refining and smelting minerals, to whom she granted her letters patent to search for mines of gold, silver, copper, and quicksilver, in various counties of England, and the MINES. 67 Principality of Wales. A year after ste made two more grants : one to Cornelius Devosse, and the other to William Humphrey and Christopher Shutz. These foreigners ultimately divided part of their tenure into shares, which they sold, and formed a body, incor- porated under the title of " The Governor, Assistants, and Commonalty of the Mines Royal/' By all these instruments, as well as by those of former reigns, a power was given to sink shafts anywhere except in gar- dens, or underneath the foundations of castles or houses. Thus were the mineral resources of the country — ^in- stead of being dealt out piecemeal to favourites and courtiers too ignorant or indolent to estimate their value, or pursue their improvement — ^placed under the direction of such a public body as could remedy in some degree the baneful effects, without abandoning the high pretensions, of an unlimited prerogative. Such was the foundation then laid for those great manufacturing interests, which required, and ultimately obtained, a solid independence, fortified against the attacks of arbitrary power, and exposed to none but the very remote danger of our declining industry as a people. Public attention now being directed into this chan- nel, the discovery of metallic veins became so frequent, that the company, doubting, perhaps, the success of all the ventures which were proposed to them, began to farm their exclusive rights to enterprising individuals. The Cardiganshire mines, among the most abundant in lead and silver, were, during the whole of the seventeenth century, precisely in this situation. Sir Hugh Myddelton, whose enterprising character 58 MIXS8. and great wealth render him somewhat of a hero in mining annals, realized the greater part of his property by farming the chief mines in Cardiganshire, which he held from the Governor and Company of Mines Royal at a yearly rent of fonr hundred pounds. He coined his silver into crowns, angels, &c., in Aberystwith Castle ; and so profitable were his ventures, that from one mine alone, yielding one hundred ounces of silver from one ton of lead, he derived a clear profit of two thousand pounds a month. This princely revenue was all expended in his great work of supplying the city of London with water — an undertaking which had ter- rified every other adventurer; but which Sir Hugh completed in the reign of James I., who, with his court, was present at the first opening of this grea public work. Sir Hugh, like many more public bene- factors, impoverished himself for the benefit of thou- sands, and his family declined into narrow circum- stances, while he himself practised as a surveyor, to help his shattered finances. Sir Hugh Myddelton was succeeded in these mines by Mr. Bushell in the reign of Charles I., of whom mention has been made in the account of Aberystwith Castle. The sojourner at Aberystwith will do well to visit the chief mining-stations around that place, not alone on account of the internal wealth of the mountain-ranges by which he will find himself surrounded, but to become acquainted with the peculiarly wild, vast, and generally sterile character of the scenery. The dis- tricts most rich in mineral treasures are almost inva- riably the most barren in vegetative beauty, but their "Huge crags And knolU oonfus^dly burled," MINKS. 59 broken into rugged glens, or traversed by deep and dark ravines, where the impetuous mountain torrents roar along, are magnificently grand, and serve well to enhance the sylvan loveliness of the graceful vales so often found beside these gloomy regions of hidden wealth. I know not a better route for showing the gradation of Cardiganshire scenery than the way from Aber- ystwith to the mines of Daren. The road crossing a high hill, north-east of the town, leads you for some time in view of the luxuriant woods, pastures, and corn- fields, which make the Rheidol valley such a garden of beauty, girt with swelling hills, and watered by its fair river. Shortly, in a narrow but avenue-like lane, you pass Gogerddan, surrounded by all of comfort, luxury, and beauty that nature and art can combine for man^s enjoyment. Farther on, after passing the race-ground, the hedgerows become less thickly planted with fine trees, and the landscape loses much of its wooded rich- ness. Soon a straggling dirty village, of such cottages as I have formerly described, oficrs its divers impedi- ments of pigs, poultry, pots, and pans, to the traveller, and as he emerges from its peat-smoke atmosphere, the scene generally grows more and more wild, cultureless, and vast, till enormous hilly masses of moorland, heaped mountain-wise one over another, form the whole ex- panse of country, varied only by the silvery threads of gushing streamlets, the alternating tints of gorse and heather, and the thinly scattered dwellings of the pea- santry. Amid scenery of this character, on the road to Machynlleth, is the remarkable cist-vaen, supposed by some persons to be the burial-place of the baid 60 OWELT TALIB8IN. Taliesin, and called Owely Taliesin, or Taliesin's bed ; and the popular superstition is, that should any one sleep a night in this bed, he would the next day become either a poet or a fool. Sir S. R. Meyrick, whose great antiquarian lore entitles his opinions to general cre- dence, considers it rather the monument of a Druid, and the matter-of-fact Camden says, " I take this, and all others of this kind, for old heathen monuments, and am far from believing that ever Taliesin was in- terred here/' Tlie last information we have respecting Taliesin leaves him at the court of King Alfred, who loved so well to retain around him the gifted of his age, that it appears unlikely that the bard would have returned to the comparatively uncivilized region where we find his supposed grave. Many of this poet's com- positions are still extant, and have much of the grave, solemn, and peculiar beauty of the ancient Welsh minstrelsy. CHAPTER IV. 7LINL1MBC0N — LLANGURIG — RHAIADYR — NEW BADNOB. High o*er his mates, how huge Plinliinmon lifto His many-beaconed head! — 0*er-coronaUed With still and shadowy mist^ — or rolling storms That speak lond-voioed to the echoing hills. And rouse repeated thunder. * « « * See yon vale. Where, dancing onward, like a sportive chikl, A gashing streamlet frolics in the light, Gushing from rock to rock, as though its waves Were the transformed feet of mountain nymph. And these her wonted haunts. And even so May our fiintastic fancy deem her yet — That brook is e'en Plinlimmon's fiurest child — The peerless Wtx.— L. A. Twaklbt. HiTHEBTO I have been wandering at will^ and lead- ing my readers in an erratic and uncertain tracks whither chance and my wayward fancy directed. Now oor path will be restricted^ at least for the present, to the banks of the river Wye, which, as our heroine for the time being, shall receive careful attention in our proposed biographical and topographical memoir. My own Wye-ward progress having been made from Aberystwith, I cannot, perhaps, do better than marshal my readers the way I went. On quitting the interesting 62 BANKS OF THB WTE — CARDIGAN BAT. vale of the Bheidol (by the new road to Bhaiadyr), stupendous mountains close in on every side, round which the road is carried, winding along the precipitous sides, without the semblance of a fence for the conso* lation of the nervous or timid traveller, save a few whited stones, placed at intervals on the vei^ of the perpendicular ravine which yawns below, to indicate the curve to be taken by the skilful charioteer. At the time of my passing these magnificent scenes, the gorse, ''That bonny wild flower. Whose blossoms so yellow, and branches so long, 0*er moor and o'er rough rocky mountain are flange Far away from trim garden aiid bower/' was blooming in its most lavish loveliness of hue and fragrance, perfuming the clear mountain air with its soft breath, and shedding a rich golden light over the wide untenanted hills, then calmly sleeping in the glow of a summer afternoon sky. The heather, too, spread far around its pink and purple bells, where the wild bees were busily humming and gathering their sweet store in the merry sunshine. Ere crossing the upmost ridge of this mountain- chain, a most lovely view of Cardigan Bay greeted me; there it lay, sunlit to the horizon, and specked with a fairy array of white-winged, gleaming vessels, softly, and to me imperceptibly, gliding along. It was a beau- tiful, yet a sad view; for I left much that was dear behind, perhaps never to see again; and, albeit a wan- derer in many lands, my heart has room for fond memories of them all. Either the bright sunlight dazzled my eyes, or something dimmed them, so I went BANKS OP THE WYE — THE BHEIDOL. £3 on my way — ^if not rejoicings at least in that half-snb- dued^ thoughtful mood^ which best suited the grand^ calm solitude around. Journeying on through defiles cut in the solid rock^ and then over a wild dreary tract of country, covered with turbaries^ and intersected by vein-like streamlets traversing the mimic valleys of the turf in all direc- tions^ I reached the comparatively good inn at Font Herwid. Proceeding to the white rails in front of the house, to see what they inclosed, my amazement may be imagined at finding myself on the verge of a tremen- dous cbasm^ in whose deep and dark abyss the Bheidol roars along, chafing the stupendous rocks on either side, which seem to leave too narrow a path for the foaming furious torrent. The perfectly horizontal position, and regular structure, of the square and sharp masses of rock which form one side of this ravine, give them in many places the appearance of fortifications and castle-walls; while those on the op- posite bank, perhaps not more than fifty feet asunder, are seen assuming forms utterly dissimilar in aspect and direction to those fix)m which they have evidently been separated by some great convulsion of the earth ; the disruption occasioning the deep crack or ravine through which the Bheidol now flows the whole way to the Pont ar Monach, whose wild and fearful scenery scarcely exceeds that around Pont Herwid. The Bheidol wears the usual mountain-stream hue here of dark brown^ and as its heavy waters roll along the deep gulf below the dizzy traveller, they look almost black in the shadow of the huge barriers which 64 BANKS OF THE WYE — THE BHEIDOL. shut out any but a vertical sun from the dim recesses of this wild ravine. The Castell, a purer and nearly colourless stream^ flowing from an opposite direction, meets the Rheidol at this spot, and, plunging down a narrow defile in the rocks, forms a magnificent cascade, flinging its scattered streamers of snowy foam, spark- ling in the upper air, to join the murky heavy-rolling waves of the larger river below. The whole scene is wondrously, indescribably grand and beautiful; and the rich purple of the heather-bells, the pink tinge of the ling, the scarlet berries of the mountain-ash, gleam- ing out from their graceful fringe-like foliage, grouped with the elegant form of the birch, which seems to bend over the ravine as trying to see its delicate branches mirrored in the stream so turbulently boiling along below — ^with a thousand minuter beauties gemming both turf and crag with their exquisite forms and colours — all smiling in the sunlight, as if exulting in their own fair loveliness, combined to render this a scene for memory to cherish for aye. A picturesque mill, with its busy wheel and foaming stream, very agreeably enlivens the near landscape, while the cloud-capped mountains rise majestically above to complete this unimaginable scene. The windings of the chasm or ravine are very sin- gular and abrupt. I thought, as I stood gazing in rapt admiration on their tortuous and rugged sides, what a beautiful thing it would be — ^though certainly only practicable for a bird — to follow the Bheidol through all these wild glens and dingles, down to its union with the Mynach, and so on to Aberystwith. Beyond Pout Herwid the road becomes less inter- ( PLINLIMMON. 65 esting^ and the prospect less varied, tlioagh very grand and exalting. How free one's spirit feels among these trackless mountains ! No marvel is it to me that the Cymru of old were all hut unconquerahle — the very sight of their hills is enough to make a patriot's spirit arise in the tamest heart.* Dwellers among mountains have ever been dearer lovers and braver defenders of their native climes than the sojourners on monotonous and level tracts of country. The Switzers, the Tyro- lese, the Highlanders, and the Welsh, are ample proofs of this. Even a transient glimpse of such scenes as their lives were passed among, has its effect both on mind and body. How boundingly we traverse the high and breezy hills ! The fresh, free air seems to elevate and purify our thoughts; and the foot, treading the springy heather, gains swiftness and elasticity as it bounds along. Vfe sing aloud in simple youthful exultation, and feel as if we could soar through the bright blue sky above us like the lark ; — ^such glad and buoyant beings can an hour's life ou these hills create out of staid, sober, matter-of-fact worldlings. Our next resting-place bears the sounding name of the ''Plinlimmon Hotel," a small wayside hostel at Eisteddfa Gurrig, so grandiloquized ; and hence, pro- * King Henry II., in Answer to the inquiries of Emanuel, emperor of Constantinople, respecting Britain, replied : " That in a part of the island there was a people called Welsh, so bold and ferocious, that when unarmed, they did not fear to encounter an armed force, being ready to shed their blood in defence of their country, and to sacrifice their lives for military renown ;*' and Giraldas speaks of their constant readiness to do battle ; " for," says he, " when the trumpet sounds, the husbandman leaves his plough, and mshee to the onset with as much eagerness aa the courtier from the palace." — Jm New Radnor, I entered a glen of highland wild- ness, between great hills spread fSsur and wide around, swelling suddenly upward from the craggy banks of the clear mountain streamlet, which flows through the narrow valley in a meandering course over a rocky bed, forming miniature pictures of cascades and rapids. Small silvery thread-like lines, glittering among the turf on the distant heights, showed where the tributary waters were trickling down; and ever and anon a troop of playful sheep, chasing each other along the hill-side, might be seen leaping lightly across the small ravines worn by these petty cataracts, which, when swollen by wintry rains, sweep down in full and formidable volume. On I wandered — along this wild glen, which seemed to grow yet more dreary and solitarily grand as I advanced. Still keeping close to the stream, and often crossing it by springing from one piece of rock to another, I arrived at an abrupt turning, which placed me at once in a cavern-like ravine of almost naked slate rocks, rising high and dark on either side, like walls of masonry mouldering with age, seeming ready to topple over and crush the passing traveller, yet here and there, richly hung with trees and parasite plants : — "High The rock's bleak aammit frowns aboye our head. Looking immediate down ; we almost fear Lest some enormous fragment should descend With hideous sweep into the vale, and crush The intruding visitant. No sound is here, LLANDEOLET. 81 Save of the stream that shrills, and now and then A ay as of faint wailing, when the kite Comes sailing o'er the crags, or straggling lamb Bleats for its mother." Continuing along this defile, another sudden turn leads to the front of the fall, which is similar to the one at Pwll Caradoc, though less lofty, and not so richly wooded. The rocks form a narrow, high amphitheatre, over which the water is precipitated from the height of seventy feet, and falling into a dark pool, meanders away among the fragments of rock, until it gains the more open glen whence I had traced its course. A more wild and savage scene could scarcely be realized ; but its terrific effect must be greatly increased when the melted snow and falling rain have increased the volume of the waters, till they roll down, not in one, but in five or six cascades, dashing and foaming in all their wrath and power. It is remarkable that trout of a large size have been found in all parts of this fall, even in the chinks and crevices of the rock, where the turbulent waters find a momentary resting-place. It is a spot of considerable danger, and one traveller relates having seen the carcasses of two sheep and a goat, which had fallen from the slippery heights into this dismal chasm. Llandegley, a neat little village celebrated for its medicinal springs of sulphureous vitriolic water, lies on the way to Rhaiadyr, and is well worthy a brief sojourn, for the sake of its attractive scenery. A very singular range of rocks, abounding in quartz crystals, nearly joins the churchyard, and is much visited both for the views it commands, and the glittering treasures which may be won from its clefts and sides. o CHAPTER V. WTS 8CSNBRY FROM RHAIADTB TO BUILTH — ABEREDWT — 6LASBURT — HAY. Kow ft little onwmrd, where the Wfty Aeoendfl ftboTe the oeks that fkr below Shftde the nide steep, let oontemplfttion lemd Our wftiy steps ; from this clothed eminenoe Tis pleasant^ and yet fearful, to look down Upon the river roaring, and fiur off To see it stretch in peace, and mark the rooks One after one, in solemn mijesty Unfolding their wild reaches, here with wood Mantled, beyond abrupt and bare, and each As if it stroye with emulous disdain To tower in ruder, darker amplitude. — ^Bowus. Obntle readers, we will now return to the Wye, and pursue our journey from Bhaiadyr. Would that ye could all behold the scenes to which my pleasant wanderings conducted me ; would that ye could see them, as I did, arrayed in their brightest and loveliest garb. The fairy sovereigns of the ''skyey influences" never bestowed a more heavenly morning on mortal pilgrim, than they vouchsafed to me for my journey to Builtb. The bend of the Wye below Bhaiadyr was a picture ready arranged for any prince of landscape-painters. The broad quiet river, skirted with rich woods, indica- ting the course of the stream by their curving direo- OWASTADEN — VALES OP THE ELAN AND WYE. 83 lion ; the distant town^ half hidden beneath its light smoky mist; the bright meadow foreground, with a group of idle, happy boys basking in the warm sun- shine, and pulling flowers among the grass, while near them a lusty white horse, which would have done well for the pencil of Wouvermans, slowly and enjoyingly forded the clear brown stream — these were the newr objects in the landscape, all engirt by the high hills^ standing out in bright relief against the pure blue sky^ their cwms intersecting them with lines of shadow, and meadows and cornfields bordering the slope, with their cheerful patchwork of inclosures : it was a scene which deserved to be immortalized by one of the noblest sons of the noble art. Wending onwards, my road lay along the side of a gigantic, craggy, woody mountain, Gwastaden by name, on whose lofty summit are some of the largest camaa in the county. Opposite the abrupt turn which the road makes over this promontory-shaped hiU at Aber daw ddwr, the vale of the Elan opens to view, and its fair river joins the Wye, after passing under a light, simple, wooden bridge, which, with one or two finely- situated farm-steads on the river's bank, adds a sort of living, social beauty to the scene. The wooden bridges in Wales particularly please my fancy; they are so evidently built for use, and not ostentation ; and where one of the cumbrous, hump-backed brick affairs, we so abound in here, would shut out all of beauty beyond it, these more simple and suitable fabrics add to a fine scene, by their picturesque and unobtrusive forms, without hiding one other charm. Still passing on, round the grand Owastaden, the o 2 84 LLA14WRTHWL. scene is constantly varying on the right, as we view the two vales of the Wye and Elan in diflterent posi- tions, ever lovely, ever new, while on the left, rude massy crags in picturesque disorder maintain their stem harsh features, gradually deepening in tone &om the clearly-seen rocks and heather in the foreground, to the dim, yet rich, purple of the o'ercrowning and distant peaks. The vale of the Wye soon expands into a considerable flat, where the rock-chafed river mur- murs between broad turfy banks, tenanted by large flocks of geese, who were most industriously picking their living among the swamps and rushes. Swans had been more classical adjuncts to the scene; but all travellers have not the power of transmuting homely into honourable things ; and for my own part I deemed the snowy geese very pretty and entertaining per- sonages, parading their grassy realm, as if they con- ceived nothing on earth more lordly than themselves, and stretching their sapient heads disdainfully and con- temptuously in the air, at the approach of so mean an animal as a poor pedestrian wanderer — ^verily these geese strongly resembled bipeds of another class. About four miles from Rhaiadyr, the small village and tiny church of Llanwrthwl look out from their mountain nest of wood and heather upon the broad river below, whose course we now pursue through the woods skirting its eastern bank, which only allow occa- sional peeps of the opposite towering hills, also belted with avenues and groups of fine trees. Numerous residences are erected in this vicinity, blending the cultivated and beautiful with the wild and stern most harmoniously. k NEWBRIDGE — ^BUILTH. 85 Proceeding along the road towards Builth^ I occa- sionally diverged to the rights and walked along the banks of the sparkling river. Fresh vales^ and hills^ and streams^ opened in all their loveliness as I advanced. On my left lay the hill called Rhiw Graid, and two or three miles beyond, the high and frowning peak of Dolevan Hill, a huge cone-shaped ''monarch of the upper air/' surrounded by a number of farms. Re- gaining the high road, I soon reached the little village of Newbridge, opposite to Llys-dinam, where, as inti- mated by the name, a bridge crosses the Wye. Four miles from Builth the Wye receives the tribu- tary waters of the river Ithon, whose course is marked by the same features of grandeur and romantic love- liness as distinguish the more important stream. The small, but singularly varied and rich scene about Font ar Ithon^ is scarcely exceeded by any on the Wye above Eoss. The Ithon flows past Llandrindod, whose mineral springs still attract invalid visitors, and which is an interesting neighbourhood to the antiquary, from the many Druidic and other remains which it possesses. Another winding river, the Irvon, falls into the Wye, just above Builth, at which place a fine bridge spans the now wide stream over which we enter the town. Builth, like Rhaiadyr, and all other towns in such splendid scenery, is finely and picturesquely situated, and, seen from any of the surrounding heights, looks pretty enough itself; but on a nearer inspection, the streets prove narrow and zigzag, and contain but few good houses. It is said by the chronicler Jones to have derived its name, Built, or Bualt, ''from its having been woody or boscage land.'* The Brecknock- 86 CASTLE or BUILTH. shire historian complains that the town^ ''from one end to the other^ is a continuation of shops and public houses/' irhich he accounts for from the " considerable tract of country that is to be supplied from this place; there being no market for fifteen miles round/'''^ The Castle of Builth has shared the fate of its con- temporaries at Bhaiadyr, Radnor^ Presteign^ and divers other places^ formerly held in feudal bondage by the owners and rulers of their respective fortresses; its existing ruins, comprising only a fragment of a founda- tion-wall on the north side of the keep-mound, which is forty or fifty yards in circumference, is encircled by a ditch, and defended on the north side by two trenches. These earthworks remain in tolerable distinctness, and form a favourite walk for the inhabitants of the town : they occupy about two acres of ground, and command an extensive view of the river Wye, and the vale of Builth, and a wide circle of mountains both near and distant ; some enriched with forests, but the greater portion consisting of wild moorland and broken rocky ground. Brecknockshire, on the verge of which county Builth is situated, abounds in luxuriant and cultivated valleys. History furnishes us with no account of the original founder of Builth Castle, nor the time of its erection; but it was most probably constructed by Bernard New- march, who also built the Castle and Priories of Breck- nock, and many others. During the wars of the brave Welsh princes with King John, Builth Castle was several times besieged. In 1217, on the accession of Henry III., when Reginald de Bruce, neglectful of his • Jones's "History of Brecknockshire," voL ii. PBINCS LLEWBLTN. 87 all^anoe to tbe prince Lleweljm ap Jorwertli, whose danghter he had married, went over to the English monarch, Llewelyn^ turning his generally rictorions arms against his faithless ally, despoiled him of all his impor- tant possessions except the Castle of Bnilth, which was so well garrisoned and defended as to resist the sum- mons of its superior lord. In 1221, Reginald de Brace was besieged in the same fortress by a party of Welsh lords; but King Henry, to whom he had remained constant, came with an army and raised the siege. In 1260, Lleweljm ap Gruffydd took this castle in the night, without opposition or bloodshed, from Soger de Mortimer, who then possessed it, and adhered to the English king, contrary to his solemn vows of alle- giance to Llewelyn. It is supposed that a bridge, lead- ing immediately to the castle, formerly existed a few jrards lower down the Wye than the present structure, which was erected in 1770, and is a long and well- looking edifice. The circumstance, however, which gives to this place its greatest interest in the eyes both of natives and travellers, is, that it was the final retreat of the gallant but unfortunate Llewelyn, the last of the Welsh princes who held the regal power. This monarch, after having ravaged the lands of one of his recreant barons in Car- diganshire, Sir Bys ap Meredydd, repaired with a small body of his friends to Builth, but was refused admittance into the fortress, and the inhabitants to this day have borne the reproachful title of Bradvryn Bualt, or the traitors of Builth. It was winter time when Llewelyn accomplished this secret expedition. The prince found nearly the whole country in possession 88 FBINCE LI/EWELTN. of the Englisli forces, commanded by Sir Edmund Mortimer. The snow now lay thick upon the ground ; and in order to deceive his enemies, who were in vigilant pursuit of him, he employed a smith of the ominous name of Madoc goch min mawr — the read- haired, wide-mouthed Madoc, — ^to reverse his horse's shoes; but a party of the enemy coming up soon after- wards, the treacherous smith betrayed his prince's secret. Llewelyn passed the river at the bridge of Builth, and stationed his troop on the northern side, while he repaired to a neighbouring dingle, to attend an appointed meeting of his confederate lords. Here he remained alone and unarmed, waiting their arrival in vain. The bridge in the mean time was hotly assailed by the English forces, and as stoutly main- tained by the brave Welsh, until a party was led by Sir Elias Walwyn over a ford of the river a little lower down, when its brave defenders, attacked in front and rear, were obliged to fly for their lives. The victorious troops surrounded the dingle, and the unfortunate prince, becoming sensible of his danger, and suspicious of treachery among his own professed friends, sought to make a secret retreat through the forest. Adam de Francton, an English knight, discovered and pursued the fugitive, and, perfectly unconscious of his rank, plunged a spear into his body, and instantly rode off to join his own army. The bleeding monarch, faint and almost expiring, had just life enough left to implore a priest (a monk of the Cistercian order) who chanced to be passing at that time, to bestow the last rites of Holy Church upon him, and shortly after, with his dying blessing upon his beloved Cymru, he expired. After 'h .ryV r\ W i ^ 531 DEATH OF LLEWELYN. 89 the mil&j the knight returned to ascertain the quality of his enemy, and stripping him, discovered, to his un- speakable joy, that it was the Prince of Wales he had slain. He took from the pocket of his trousers his privy seal, and a letter in cipher, and cutting off his head, sent the whole as a most acceptable present to his ruthless enemy, Edward. Thus fell, defenceless, and abandoned by all, the prince that his enthusiastic bards were wont to addrel^ as '^ the dark eagle of the north,'' and the ''chief of the golden-bordered shield :" " In peace^ fair CAmbrift*8 guiding star I Her anchor in the storm of war." The body of the prince, neglected and bloody, lay unburied for some time, though its interment was sought for by the Lady Matilda Longspee, and his friends ; and this favour was only granted after it had been taken to the Abbey of Conway, and had received absolution from the Archbishop of Canterbury. The head of the unfortunate prince was paraded through the city of London, wreathed with laurel, and sur- mounted by a crown, in mockery of the double-sensed prophecy to which he had trusted, that ''jie should ride through Cheapside with a crown upon his head,'' — and placed upon a pinnacle of the Tower. The scene of the prince's death is called Cwm Llewelyn, near the banks of the Lrvon, a short distance to the westward of Builth, and the burial-place, Cefyn y bedd — the grave- ridge,— over which a house has been built. At a short distance from Builth are the Park Wells, consisting of three mineral springs; saline, sulphure- ous, and chalybeate, each particularly strong. Pump- i 90 EIVER DIHONW — ^ABERBDW. rooms, in which balls are occasionally given, and other accommodations, are provided for visitors, who are often very numerous. The abundance of game among the neighbouring hills, the fine fish in the Wye and other rivers, together with the picturesque and highly salu- brious situation of Builth, have induced many families to erect residences in the vicinity. Continuing the Wye tour from this place, I crossed the little river Dihonw, a short distance from its junction with the Wye ; after passing which, the high road runs parallel with, and dose to, the river, through avenues of fine trees, among which are many noble old oaks, that, "Stretching their gnarled lumui AorosB the road, o'erarched it like a bower With riob, dense foliage, while their ponderooB trunks Made on each side a noble colonnade, Through which the sunny river and the sky Gleamed in snccessiFe pictures." The now wide and full-rolling stream of the Wye is here plentifully strewn with fragments of rock of all shapes and sizes, from the huge mass, like an over- thrown tower rising high above the swelling water, to the groups of weed-grown stones that only serve to chafe the impetuous torrent into momentary foam and fury. Huge mountains on either side confine the valley of the river as we advance. Aberedw Hill rises on the left bank ; and AUt Mawr, on the right, erects its stem precipitous front high and frowningly over the shadowed path. The lower portion of the hill-side is here and there decked with orchards, whose trees, laden with fruit, are backed by the grand oak woods which robe it higher up, from among which the ▲BERBDW CASTLE. 01 rocks peep out; and as they consist of horizontal blocks of compact slate or flag-stone, similar to those I described at Font Herwid, and appear jost on the high and commanding points of the eminence, they have the predse aspect of a grand, bat rained fortress. The same character is observable in the rocks on the opposite side of the river, near Aberedw, where the romantic and beautifiil stream of the Edw, or Edwy, flows into the Wye. The situation of Aberedw is most lovely; its retired village, decayed castle, and simple church, all on the banks of two rivers renowned for their scenery, form subjects for the poet's dream, or the artist's study, inferior to few places on this famed track. Aberedw Castle, though not so utterly razed as the others I have lately visited, has but a few dilapidated fragments remaining, and the plough has been carried into the very heart of these. The site of the castle is a scene of wondrous beauty; between, and closely overlooking, the junction of the rivers Wye and Edwy, it commands a lovely and diversified prospect on all sides. The space occupied by the btdldings does not appear to have been extensive. Aberedw was a re- sidence of the last Llewelyn, probably a hunting-seat ; and not few or unthinking are the pilgrims who come to trace the spot where, for a few brief days, the gallant hero was wont to relax from the fatigues of his life-struggle for his country. A calm radiant sunset shed its rich subdued light over the landscape, tinging the trees on the hill-sides, and pouring a dazzling glow of reflected clouds on the broad rolling river, which, hastening on along its 92 X&WOOD^LLTSWEN. rocky channel^ seemed to my fanciful eye a kind and eloquent companion^ murmuring forth stories of her mountain home, and singing gladsome lays of Nature's majesty and love. So we journeyed together, the Wanderer and the Wye, only parting for the night at Erwood, where I remained. Let no other wanderer follow my example, for I can promise him no one item of that precious English sum-total, comfort, in the wayside hostel he will find there; but as I am no lover of grumbling, I shall avoid the recapitulation of my sorrows, and proceed on my next day's journey. Opposite Erwood, on the north side of the Wye, is Garth Hill, a small eminence, on which remain the vestiges of an old British camp. Three miles from Erwood appears Llangoed Castle, as it is termed, though the plain, comfortable-looking mansion so named has nothing in its outward seeming consonant to its title. The adjacent groimds are richly wooded, and some of the trees remarkably fine. Boughrood Castle is another misnamed dwelling of the square sash-windowed kind ; but part of the old castle and moat may yet be seen below the ford, from which, probably, the place derives its name. Near Boughrood is a singular horseshoe bend of the river, a curve of which runs by Llyswen, now a poor village, formerly, as its name (white palace) imports, a royal residence of the South Wales princes, and the scene of stately festivities in days of yore. At Glasbury the Wye is spanned by a rude, singular bridge, partly consisting of stone, and partly of wood, giving a very picturesque appearance to the village- like town ; above which, on a lawny hill, stands Maeslough Castle. Verily, castles HAT. 93 aboand here^ and this is an imposing-looking edifice^ adorned with turrets^ towers^ and terraces^ sarrounded by ornamental grounds^ and so placed as to form a chief object in the landscape for several miles. The town of Hay is pleasantly situated on the rising bank of the Wye^ and, from the vestiges of a Roman camp near the church, appears to have been of ancient origin. The manor of Hay was given by Bernard Newmarch to Sir Philip Walwyn, who probably built the castle, of which little remains but a gateway, a dwelling-house having been erected out of the ruin's materials. CHAPTER VI. CLIFFORD CASTLE — WYE 8GBNEBT TO HEBBFORD HBBS- FOBD CATHEDRAL, ETC. — ACONBUBT HILL. O what A goodly 8oeii« !— hero the bleak mount. The hare bleak mountain epeckled thin with sheep; — Grey douda, that ehadowing spot the snnny fields ; And river, now with bushy rocks o*er-browed. Now winding bright and full, with nakM banks ; And seats, and lawns, the abbey and the wood. And oots, and hamlets, and faint city-spire ; — God methought Had built him here a temple I No wish profaned my 0TerwheIm6d heart. Blest hour f It was a luzuiy — to be 1 — CoLKBlDOi. The little town of Hay is written down in the Norman records as Le Hay, and is now almost uni- formly called The Hay. Its early history is involved in some obscurity; but Leland says, that ''Roman coignes have bene ofte founde theare, wherby it is likelye to have bene somwhat of price in the dayes of the auncient Brytons.^' Its castle was destroyed by Henry II., with many others, during the time of the rebellion raised by his undutiful children, to chastise, as old Lambarde writes, ''the insolende of his sone, and such as egged him forwarde, bycause he founde that the opinion reposed on the strengthe of theise HAT CASTLE — FAIR BOSAMOND. 95 castles had incooraged their maisters/' It was after- wards restored^ and came into the possession of Humphrey Bohan, earl of Hereford, and on several occasions changed masters, till it was finally destroyed by Owen Glyndwr. The celebrated Fair Rosamond, daughter of Walter de Clifford, a baron of Herefordshire, was bom in this castle. Her story is well known. HoUinshead, speak- ing of Henry II.'s incontinence, says, ''But most of all he delited in the companie of a pleasant damosell whom he 'cleped the rose of the world ; the common people named her Rosamond, for her passing beautie, propemesse of person, and pleasant wit, with other amyable qualities, being verily a rare and peerlesse peece in those days. He made for her an house at Woodstock, in Oxfordshire, like to a laberinth, that is to mean, wrought like a knot in a garden, called a maze, with such turnings and windings in and out, that no creature might find her, nor come to her, save he were instructed of the king, or such as were secret with him in that matter. But the common report of the people is, that the queene finally found hir out by a silke thread, which the king had drawne foorth of hir chamber with his foote, and dealte with hir in such sharpe and cruelle wise, that she lyved not long after. She was buried in the Nunrie of Godstow, beside Oxford, with these verses upon hir tumbe : — " ' Hie jacet in tumbA Rosa mundi, non Rosa munda, Non redolet sed olet, quae redolere solet.' "^ * Qnaen Eleanor might have been a little more oompasdonate to this frail " row of the world," leeing that her own character wae not immac 96 CLIFFORD CASTLE. The renowned George Clifford, third earl of Cum- berland, and a great favourite with Queen Elizabeth, appears to have been one of the most ''illustrious'* members of the Clifford family. An anecdote related of his daughter, the Lady Anne, who was successively married to Richard earl of Dorset, and to Philip earl of Pembroke and Montgomery, deserves mention here. The countess seems to have bated nothing of the family spirit on the score of feminine gentleness. Sir Joseph Williamson, when secretary of state to Charles II., wrote to the countess, wishing to name a candidate to her for the borough of Appleby : he received the fol- lowing reply : — " I have been bullied by an nanrper^I have been neglected by a conrt — but I will not be dictated to by a subject. — Your man ahan^t stand. "Anke Dobsbt, Pembboks and MONTOOmBT." Of this pithy and laconic letter-writer Dr. Donne re- marked, that " in her younger years she knew well how to discourse of all things, from predestination to slea- silk j" and if the decision and terseness of her conver- sation equalled that of her writing, I, for one, could wish "AnneDorsef alive again, that I might hear her talk — for a brief space. Clifford Castle, from our description of which we have been beguiled by the thoughts of ladies fair, is seated on a high knoll, overlooking the Wye, and culate ; at least if we may believe her confession in the old ballad, beginning with — "Queen Elianor was a sicke woman, And afraid that she should dye ; Then she sente for two fryars of France, To speke with her speedilye." P -^ WYE SCENERY TO HEEEFORD. 97 appears to have held a good and commanding position in times of danger. The ruins are draped with ivy, and surrounded by graceful trees ; the neighbouring country is also richly wooded. I have advanced so gradually from the sterner fea- tures of the Wye banks amid rocks and cloud-capped mountains, that the change of character in the scenery, though impressed on my own mind, has not, perhaps, been made sufficiently evident to the kind listeners of my home travels ; they must bear in mind, if they please, that our queenly river has three distinct phases, if I may use the term. In her outset, sportive and frolicsome, gay as a maiden 'mid her native hills, she comes dancing and singing along, leaping merrily over the rocks that intennipt her course, and even when older grown, not forgetting her wild youthful antics. Prom Plinlimmon to Aberedw the scenery through which we follow her course is wild, rocky, picturesque, and sublime : — ^below Aberedw, the Wye grows somewhat more staid in her demeanour; and the surrounding scenes become more rich and luxuriant than startling or grand — they are more English. She goes on in a calm, maidenly mood, " girt with beauty ;*' and, until we pass Ross, no material change appears in the cul- tivated, rich, happy-looking valleys, whose bright fields laugh in the summer sunshine, nor fear its drought, while their noble river rolls her full tide along. Her third character commences at Goodrich, and from thence to her union with the Severn all is richly, har- moniously grand — one series of glorious pictures out- spread on either side the majestic stream. At Rhydspence, about a mile from CliflFord, the Wye H 98 MOCCAS COURT. quits the borders of Radnorshire^ and taming eastward^ enriches the county of Hereford^ one of the garden- plots of our dear England. Small lovely villages are scattered along at intervals^ Mrith fine old gabled houses^ wreathed with vines and roses from porch to roof-tree^ mingled with jasmine clinging round " The maasiTe mallioned windows, and the stacks Of qtudnt, &Dt44Btic chimneys, that o'ertop The pointed roof with ever-TarjiDg store Of twisted, carved, and loxenge-shaped device. " Hollyhocks, those high and graceful flowers, adorn the box-edged borders of the little crammed parterre before the windows, and, leaning over the crazy moss-grown palings in front, look abroad with a generous, frank, good-humoured glance for the passer-by, and a smile of kindly recognition to wonted guests. Such gables and gardens the wanderer by the Wye- side from Hay to Hereford, will ofttimes pass, in his progress through Witney, Winforton, Willersley, Let- ton, Bradwardine, &c., interspersed with meadow scenes. Between Letton and Staunton-on-Wye is Brobury Scar, a cliff rising from the river's northern bank, and agree- ably breaking the even, rich luxuriance of the scenery around. Moccas Court,* with its fair grounds and park-lands, lies on the southern bank ; it was anciently called Moches, and was a part of the possessions of St. Guthlach, the holy father, we opine, the inventor of * Moccas Park contains some of the finest oaks in the oonnty of Hereford, and also a profusion of rich hawthorns. On the summit of the hill above the park, is the Draidical remain called Arthur's Stone. It is a cromlech, consisting of one long and wide stone resting on short columns. E£NCHESTER. 99 the whip 80 celebrated for the virtue of its flagellations. The old house stood below the site of the present, which is a modem structure^ and was in part built from the ruins of Bradwardine Castle^ now demolished, but in days of yore the family seat of Thomas Brad- wardine, archbishop of Canterbury, in the reign of Edward III., and for his deep learning named Doctor Profundus. From Moccas Park, crossing the brow of the intervening hill, we are tempted to descend into the far-famed Golden Yale, whose luxuriant vegetation, and gay, yellow vernal flowers well deserve such a fairy- tale name. Journeying on, we come in sight of Kenchester, the supposed Ariconium of antiquity, said to have been destroyed by an earthquake. The Roman encampment of Magna Castra is immediately adjacent, and various remains telling of former occupants, consisting of Boman bricks, coins, &c., have been found on the spot. In 1669, a large paved vault, with some tables of plaster, were discovered in a wood not far distant, and the fol- lowing year a bath was found, with the brick flues entire. A short distance south-east of Kenchester, is a spot called the Camp Field, and on the south bank of the river lies Eaton Camp: both these places have apparently been outposts to the chief station at Magna Castra. Just before entering Hereford, at an angle of the road, is a stone cross, called the White Cross; its pre- sent height is not more than fifteen feet, the slender stages of the shaft having departed with bygone time. The remaining portion consists of an hexagonal flight of seven steps, and the first and only existing stage H 2 100 HEREFOaD. of the fihafl^ which is also hexagonal^ adorned with columns^ and niches containing shields bearing a lion rampant. Tradition relates that this cross was erected about the year 1345, by Dr. Lewis Charlton, bishop of Hereford, in memory of the time when, in consequence of an infectious plague raging in the city, the markets were held on this spot. The city of Hereford disappointed my expectations, as all cities and towns do, when I enter their pent-up streets from the pure, free, blessed country, "and therefore, little shall I grace the cause,^^ though I do speak its praise. My kind and courteous readers ! — You are listening to a Wanderer's story, and must e'en be content with descriptions of such things as suited my fancy to observe, bearing in mind, that I attempt not an inventory of all that may be seen, but only record what I myself did see. The morning after my arrival being wet and stormy, I visited the cathedral, and accompanied as I was, by an intelligent companion, whose love for the antiquities which surrounded us made him a right eloquent elucidator of their mystery and beauty, my wet morning proved a most pleasant one. The exterior of the cathedral, though made up by places of somewhat incongruous materials, is grand and impressive, sombre, aged, and darkly venerable; and as we gaze on its dusky features, they seem to tell a tale of days that are fled, and we are insensibly led into inquiry and recollection of its origin and existence. According to some ancient authorities, this city (for- merly called by the Britons Trefawith, Hfinwith, and HSn-fordd, from which names the Saxons may have formed its present name) possessed a magnificent ^^ V; ^ ^ % ^ ^ ■ ij ^ ^^ '•Y-5 jj; .^ '^^ ''.ri 'f. HEREFORD CATHEDRAL. 101 diurch as early as the reign of Offa, and was a flou« rishing place, and the seat of a bishop. Its prosperity continued under the West Saxon kings, and in or about the time of Athelstan, the town was encompassed by walls. Leland mentions six noble ports or gates in the place; but destruction, under the specious name of improvement, has demolished all these. Two, Wide- marsh gate and another, existed till 1798. Harold founded the castle, of which nothing remains — the site forms a pleasant promenade, adorned with trees, on the bank of the Wye. Return we to the cathedral, whose time-furrowed face sent Fancy to question the antiquity of its birth. We find that a grand church has existed here from a very early period; but we also find that repeated destructions of churches successively built on this spot have occurred, and that the existing edifice owes its origin to Robert de Loxing, or Lozinga, who, being made bishop of Hereford by William the Conqueror, commenced a church here in 1079, the former struc* ture having been burned down in 1055. Lozinga died in 1095, but his design was completed by Bishop Raynelm, chancellor to the queen of Henry I., who held this see till his death, in 1115. The central tower was built about a century after, by Bishop Engidius de Bruce, and further alterations and additions have been constantly in progress, some good, some bad; among which latter must be classed those perpetrated in these *^march-of-intellect'' times by the enlightened persons concerned in such matters. In the first place, they have made the hoary old walls glare within ''like a whited sepulchre," wherever the greatest curse ever I 102 HEREFORD CATHEDRAL. bestowed by human inyention on the artist and anti- quary can be exhibited — all is whitewashed — ^the mas- sive circular arches of the spacious nave are now, and even the beautiful oak carving in the choir was, coated with the abomination till recently. The altar part of the choir is strangely disfigured by being wainscoted in the Grecian style, and so making a Corinthian column stand side by side with a florid Gothic screen or pinnacle. The chapel of Our Lady, now used as the library, is a beautiful gem of architectural effect and symmetry. The group of lancet-windows, with their receding clusters of slender columns and rich carving, is, in good sooth, most pleasant to look upon ; but the heavy book-shelves and desks in this place, with the precious tomes chained to their allotted nooks, and making an uncomfortable kind of jail-clatter and clang on being disturbed, give a jarring sensation to both eyes and ears. Bishop Audley^s chapel, a sort of second-story offshoot to the library, and looking down into it, is an exquisite little bijou in decorative archi- tecture, finely carved and painted, or rather illuminated, just like a rich old missal, and separated from the Lady chapel by a screen, carved and painted to correspond, and adorned with eflSgies of saints. Bishop Stanbury's chapel is, to my mind, even more beautiful, because less gaudy; but its fairy fretwork and pendent roof, all so very exquisite, are darkened by some ill-mannered contrivance of our days, and lost, except to the prying and admiring eyes of resolute hunters after the beau- tiful. The mpnument of old Cantilupe is in a dilapi- dated condition, like "many moe/* but some of these finger-posts to dead men's memories are wondrously HEREFORD CATHEDRAL. 103 quaint and graceful, and fairly wrought; especially the canopied tomb of Bishop Acquablanca^ a most beautiful specimen of the ornate^ delicate elegance of the pointed style. Here, too, is the mutilated tomb of Sir Richard Pembruge, who died in 1375. He was ancestor of the Lords Chandos, and Knight of the Garter, in the time of Edward III. The right leg of this knight's stone effigy having been demolished or carried off, an artificer was employed to replace it, whose knowledge of knightly costume not being equal to his accuracy in copying what he saw of it, he has invested the new limb with a fac-simile garter, to match the honourable badge which graces the sinister leg. This effigy is interesting from wearing the old tour- nament helmet, so much prized by antiquarians and collectors of armour. Numberless other monumental reliquefs crowd on my memory while mentioning the few I have done, but I must resist the temptation of introducing them to my readers: not even the devo- tional ladies so demurely kneeling on their marble cushions — not the mitred abbots, and bishops without number, may be added to my chronicle. But the famous old map of the world, I cannot pass in silence. How our modem masters of the theodolite must hug themselves while contemplating this rich bit of serious burlesque ! The map is done on very thick parchment, and is, perhaps, four or five feet square, the geogra- phical portion being circular, and the comers occupied by emblematical devices and figures ; in one part is a grotesque representation of his Holiness the Pope, commissioning surveyors to make this marvellous chart, which represents the Archipelago in the immediate L 104 PULPIT-CROSS. vicinity of Londou, mth Paris^ Rome^ Constantinople^ &c.^ all contiguous. This curiosity is attributed to the time of King John, and is tolerably well preserved, most of the names and figures being distinctly visible, and some of the illuminated parts quite brilliant. It is curious to notice how little progress the science of geography made in the early ages. Our neighbours of the Low Countries tried their hands upon a map of Scotland, more than three centuries after the date of this Hereford map, which they somewhat pompously announced as " expurgated from all faults/^ in which Scotland is put down as an island, and York one of its chief cities. Great neglect appears in almost every part of Here- ford Cathedral, and where repairs or restorations are attempted, the very spirit of discord seems to prevail with the directors; they crown Saxon pillars with Gothic arches, stop up light and elegant arcades by cumbrous, dark, dead walls ; shuffle monuments out of their places; hide the grandest architectural beauty, and the most curious work of ancient art, by bran-new painted pews, and pert-looking epitaph-slabs; destroy whole chapels to save the cost of repairing them (Bishop Egerton to wit), and bestow their malediction of whitewash on all things it can spoil. One dainty morsel of monastic architecture was brought under my observation by the same kind and intelligent companion, to whom I owe much of my enjoyment in the cathedral antiquities. I allude to the ruin of the Pulpit-cross, now standing in a cabbage-and- potato garden, which occupies part of the site of the ancient monastery of Black Fryars, The cross is hex- ACONBURY HILL. 105 agonal in form, surrounded by steps, ascending to a covered stand or pulpit, in the centre of which is an ornamented pedestal of like form, from which springs the shaft of the cross, spreading in ramifications on the inner part of the roof, and rising from the point above, where it is broken off; buttresses support each angle of this beautiful remnant ; and ivy, with other creeping plants, adorn while they aid in destroying it. The few remaining portions of the monastery, now used as stabling, &c., form a suitable background to the cross, which is a perfect bit of beauty. The following morning proved little more favourable fjr out-door exploits; I nevertheless resolved to per- form my self-assigned task of a visit to Dinedor Hill : the very name has enchantment in it,— it sounds like something beautiful. Another '^kind and intelligent companion '^ charitably bestowed his society on the Wanderer, and forth we started, having in the mean time determined on ascending Aconbury Hill instead of Dinedor — the former commanding all the view seen from the latter, and much more; and also possessing the merit — great in the eyes of a small antiquary— of having a well-defined Roman camp on its summit. Wje passed out of town over the bridge, where the Wye looks placid and smooth, — the beautiful romping hoiden of Plinlimmon tamed down into a quiet douce damoiselle. The meadow scenery around was very lovely, and full of fine groups of Cuypish-looking cows, standing just as a painter would have them, and as if conscious how well they looked in the bright green fields. The orchards were all beautiful enough to be the gardens of the Hesperides, with trees bending under their trea« 106 CAMP UlLL. sures of golden^ russet^ and ruddy fruity hanging in luscious clustering wreaths, or heaped in juicy hillocks ready for cider*making. After passing the little village of Callow, and gaining the ascent beyond, the view opens grandly, and you push on eagerly anticipating the treat to come. A narrow footpath leads from the high road, through the wood to the Camp Hill ; and a lovely path it is ! full of hazel bushes, and ferns, and flowers. On reaching the summit of the hill, the in- trenchment is seen extending in an irregular oblong oval, with the elevated praetorium, and chief divisions of the camp, clearly marked, though now covered with low underwood. Soon after our arrival on the spot whence the view was to be enjoyed, a " fine growing shower " came on, and, increasing rapidly in vehemence, it '^ downward poured a deluge of disaster.'' I went, as a proper traveller should, " to see whatever could be seen," and so resolved "to bide the pelting of the pitiless storm," in full expectation that it would shortly pass over ; so on the hill we remained, without shelter of any kind, or any semblance of a tree, save a few bushes, and some famous blackberry brambles, which, though they offered their best of meat and drink, had a marvellous "lack of dry lodgings for travellers." Despite the storm, which continued unabated, I, for my own part, positively enjoyed myself; for the rain, heavy as it was over our heads, did not appear to be equally violent all around, and wore the semblance of a living silvery veil, occasionally lighted up by a burst of watery sunshine, which, resting on the white cottages sprinkled about, and on the city of Hereford, lying below us at a few miles' distance, made them gleam CAMP HILL. 107 brightly out by turns; and at every shift of the changing clouds^ a new picture burst into life and beauty. Here- ford lay to the north (look at the view from Dinedor^ with the rainbow^ and imagine such a scene realized) ; beyond^ to the west, the Wye Valley, towards Hay, and the hills of Radnorshire; still west, but more southerly, than these, appeared those ever-grand land- scape guests, the Skyrrid, Sugarloaf, and Black Moun- tains: eastward the Malvern Hills, and the ridges about Stoke Edith. The dark clouds overhead cast a black shadow on the near hills, while bright sunshine lit up river, spire,' town, and tower, in the green vales beyond ; and the distant mountains, frowning in grandeur, wore their storm-robes of dusky purple, veiled in ever-changing silvery mist, now light and airy — anon thick and dense, — now smoke, now sub- stance, — a dreamy curtain between us and the glory of the distant scenes. They who could stand on such a spot as this, and gaze around unmoved, must have a marvellously small allowance of heart and soul in their composition. CHAPTER VII. IIAUEWOOD — ROSS — GOODRICH COURT — GOODRICH CASTLE. Who hang with woods yon mountain's sultry brow T From the dry rock who bade the waters flow ? Not to the skies in useless columns tost. Nor in proud falls magnificently lost ; But clear and artlesa, pouring through the plain, Health to the sick, and solace to the swain. Whose causeway parts the vale with shady rows ? Whose seats the weary traveller repose T Who taught that heav'n-directed spire to rise ? The Man of Ross, each lisping babe replies. — PoPX. The Wye scenery, between Hereford and Ross, though rich and luxuriant, presents so little of novelty or historic interest, that I preferred taking the more direct land road, which passed through a country of garden-like beauty and cultivation, sprinkled with lovely cheerful villages and park land, and bounded in the distance by the glorious ranges of blue mountains I have before alluded to. Beyond Aconbury Hill, the road gradually descends, and passes through the village of Much Birch, where a very droll old-fashioned garden amused me exceedingly, with its infinite variety of devices in cut and clipped yew-trees. Lovely prospects opened in all directions, and the hedge-rows were gaily and beautifully adorned with the I HAIIEWOOD. 109 deep ruddy berries of the hawthorn, and the shining acorns gleaming among the rich yellow leaves of the fine old oaks, which were particularly grand about Hare^ wood, the seat of the Hoskins family, a spot interesting as having formed part of the ancient Forest of Hare- wood, in wliich Ethelwold, King Edgar's minister, had a castle. Here, it is said. Mason fixed the scene for his fine drama of Elfrida^ and his description is charac- teristic of many similar scenes in this luxuriant neigh- bourhood. " How nobly does this yenerable wood, Gilt with the glories of the orient sub, Embosom yon &ir mansion ! the soft air Salutes me with most cool and temperate breath. And, as I tread the flower-besprinkled lawn, Sends up a gale of fragrance. I should guess. If e*er Content deigned visit mortal clime, This was her place of dearest residence." Fengethly next appears, exhibiting the same features of charming home scenery, and abundance of beautiful cattle, the greater part of this district consisting of rich pasture land. We next passed the village of Peterstow, and then entered Wilton, where the Wye is spanned by a handsome bridge, from which a broad terrace-like road leads into Boss, only a mile distant. This new road has been recently cut beneath the red cliffs, on the summit of which, the church and its surrounding elm- trees form a conspicuous object in the landscape for some miles round. Our first thoughts, on entering the town of Boss, naturally recur to the memory of John Kyrle, the philanthropist of the place. The house in which the 110 ROSS — THE MAN OF ROSS. good man lived was lately used as an inn, but is now a private dwelling. Here the poet Coleridge wrote the following lines : — '' Richer than miser o*er hia countless hoarcb, Nohler than kings, or king-polluted lords. Here dwelt the Man of Boss ! traveller, hear ! Departed merit claims a reverent tear. Friend to the friendless, to the sick man health. With generous joy he viewed his modest wealth ; He heard the widow's heav'n-hreathed prayer of praise ; He marked the sheltered orphan's tearful gaze. Or, where the sorrow-shrivelled captive lay. Poured the bright blaze of Freedom's noontide ray. But if, like me, through life's distressful scene. Lonely and sad thy pilgrimage hath been. And if, thy breast with heart-sick anguish fraught, Thou joumeyest onward, tempest-tossed in thought, Here cheat thy cares ! in generous vipions melt. And dream of goodness thou hast never felt."* The church which the good man of Boss frequented^ and where he lies interred, is a handsome and vene- rable-looking structure, with a lofty spire. The church- yard is extensive, and adorned by some particularly fine elm-trees, planted by his own hands. I never remember having been so much pleased with a church and burial-ground as with this ; the gray Gothic archi- tecture, the ancient tombs, and the heaved turf, where 80 many nameless dead are laid at rest, — the grand trees, rustling in the wind above, and the glorious pro- * John Kyrle was bom at Dymock, in Herefordshire, in 1637, and died in 1724. He is described as nearly six feet high, " strong and lusty made, jolly and ruddy in the fiMse, with a large noae." His dress was a dark-brown suit, a wig, short cut and bushy behind, parted in the forehead, with a cravat, the long ends of which hung down after the isshion of Charles the Second's time. ROSS. Ill i spect spread out all around^ — it was the very poetry of ; earth — ^its beauty and its sadness. There is a fanciful^ and^ as it seems^ true story re- lated of these elm-trees. It is said that after the death of their benevolent planter^ an official and officious person committed the cruel sacrilege of cutting down some of the good man's favourite trees ;* immediately upon which, there sprung up within the church, and within the very pew he occupied, three young elm shoots, which, with almost superstitious reverence, are now preserved and cherished. They overshadow the two tall windows in that comer of the church, and form a verdant canopy over the wonted seat of the good man. It is one of the most strange and beautiful whims of Nature I ever knew. The marble bust and monument in the chancel, tinged with the passing sunlight through gorgeous stained glass, had nothing of interest for me compared with this simple, but touching memento. The " Man of Ross's Walk*' is at some distance from the churchyard, and is approached by a neat gravel path across the fields. It occupies a rocky eminence parallel with the course of the Wye, and is shaded by luxuriant beech, aspen, and other trees. At the extremity of the walk is placed a summer-house which was once a favourite resort of the inhabitants, but it now appears in a deserted and somewhat desolate con- dition. Adjoining the churchyard is "The Prospect," which commands, as from a promontory, the course of the winding Wye and the exquisite scenery around. * There are yet standing fonrteen of these magnificent elma|y many of which measure nearly twelve feet round the trunk, and in height rival the pinnacles of the church tower. 112 ROSS. The grounds have been tastefully laid out and planted by the proprietor of the new Boyal Hotel, a beautiful building in the Tudor style of architecture, which rises gracefully from the declivity on the right. A dispute arose about the possession of this delectable spot, which the proprietor claimed as private property, but he has yielded to the spirited opposition of the townspeople^ and it constitutes still the favourite promenade. Ross is a pleasant little town ; its varied site and chalky streets give it a clean, picturesque, and cheery appearance. The house occupied by the ''good man'' is on one side of the old weather-beaten town-hall, and is now converted into a druggist's shop, over which is affixed, as the country people called it, the '' statute" of Mr. Kyrle. From Ross I made an excursion to May Hill, another spot considered by antiquaries as the probable site of the ancient Ariconium of Antoninus, which Camden fixes at Kenchester, but which Horseley removes to the neighbourhood of Ross. It has evidently been an im- portant Roman station, and commands a view of an immense extent of country, though the extraordinary flatness and breadth of its summit hides the middle landscape, and only allows the spectator to enjoy the distance, and the immediate foreground of gorse, heather, and the crowning crest of fir-trees, which are visible for many miles round. The Severn, and the great plain of Gloucester, form the most interesting portion of the panorama, at the extremity of which, faintly distinguished from the Cotteswold Hills, rise the spires and towers of that city ; and the Malvern HiUs on the north-eastj wear a more broken and picturesque WILTON CASTLE. 113 form than from any other spot whence I have viewed them. A pleasant evening walk from ''mine inn/' below the red cliffs at Boss^ and over the Wye bridge^ brought me to the small hamlet of Wilton^ and I wandered about, seeking a road to the ruins of its old castle, parts of which are seen from the river and bridge. Tiddng advantage of a stranger's privilege, I accosted a gentle- man, whose benevolent countenance augured well for my intended queries, and " asked my way" to the castle, whither he kindly accompanied me. He led me into a private garden, where stands the ruin, consisting of scarcely more than the low square wall that surrounds it, and a turret, that has been converted into a thatched summer-house. On the site of the jealous fortress has sprung up a cottage omSe, smiling significantly, with all the modem appliances ''thereto belonging." The area of the castle serves as garden ground, and flaunting dahlias flourish luxuriantly among the strangely-abused memories of former days. I could be Quixotic in defence of the rights of poor old Wilton Castle — ^not that I am a lover of anything of feudal tyranny, dark- ness, and oppression of soul and body — that iron vas- salage of by-gone days, — Ood forbid ! but I hate to see anything abused in its adversity ; and ruins are beau- tifdl bits of poetry and morality, — ^they father many a delicate fanpy, and tell, eloquently silent, many a stem tmth. They do not occupy much of our land-room, and surely ought to be allowed that little ungrudgingly, without being either pulled down or filled up like the one in question. Wilton Castle was the seat of the Greys from the time of Edward I. It was afterwards 1 114 GOODRICH CODBT. alienated to the Chandos family^ and finally it became the property of Guy's Hospital. The name of this family, in connection with their own worth, will long be remembered in the person of one of their descen- dants, as the patron of the illustrious poet Spenser, for whom he procured a grant from Queen Elizabeth of three thousand acres of land in the county of Cork, while he was Lord Deputy of Ireland, and Spenser enjoyed the office of his secretary. The poet has per- petuated his gratitude in the sonnet to Lord Grey prefixed to his Fairy Q^een. "Most noble lord, the pillar of my life, And patron of my Mase*8 pupilage ; Through whose lai^ bounty poured on me rife. In the 6r8t season of my feeble age, I now do live, bound yours by yassalage." Betuming to Boss by twilight, I ended my day's wanderings; and on the following morning rose with the intention of spending some hours at Goodrich, but the rain poured down in torrents, and philosophy was at zero. At length, by mid-day, a gleam appeared, and 1 gladly proceeded to Goodrich Court. I may well apply to this mansion the term used regarding Abbots- ford; this is, indeed, "a romance in stone and lime.*' But the characters of the romances are difierent. In Abbotsford is united the castle and the monastery, with something of the fanciful, fairy spirit of Border legends. At Goodrich Court we dream of Froissart and his chro« nicies of arms and chivalry. Sir S. B. Meyrick formed the design from a variety of sources, which furnished detached portions and different architectural details of the period between the first and third Edwards, the ^ GOODRICH COURT. 115 prevailing style of which he has successfully copied, arranging and disposing the whole so as to combine characteristic features from actual buildings, in an edifice of unique design, and almost perfect harmony, and admirably calculated for the reception and display of the magnificent collection of ancient armour in the possession of its accomplished resident. The extreme beauty of the spot on which the Court is erected, being " the summit of a bold promontory, with a rich hang- ing wood beneath, reaching to the water's edge, and backed by copped and other hills, offers a most attrac- tive subject for the pencil.'* The splendid plate, which will, far better than any written description, convey an idea of the reality to my readers, also includes a view of the adjoining eminence, on which stand the hoary and shattered, but beautiful ruins of the old castle of Goodrich. Goodrich Court, in its architectural character, far surpasses any of those modern fortress-mansions, which the taste of the present day has erected in imitation of by-gone times; and where, indeed, any incongruity can be observed, it has respect only to its appendages, and may be referred to the difference of national con- dition in the past and present age, — a state of perma- nent peace from one of cruel and desolating war : such a scene is not without its use and pleasure too, to those who are given to reflection. The perfect picture of a feudal fortress standing up in its prawess and strength, such as it appeared amidst the grim terrors of a barba- rous age, with all the graceful assurances of peace and plenty scattered profusely around, is a beautiful and thought-creating object. Driving along the smoothjy- I 2 116 GOODRICH COURT. gravelled Wardour's Terrace^ the visitor arrives at the principal gatevaj^ which is approached over a draw- bridge^ furnished with a portcullis^ and flanked by two round towers. The surrounding battlements, turrets, loopholes, and machicolations, look bristlingly on the defensive; while the small dry moat, laid with velvet turf, and the fair flower-beds, judiciously separated by what may be regarded as a modified rampart, perfum- ing the quiet air around, seem to give a most pleasant intimation of the ''palmy days'' into which we of the nineteenth century have fiJlen. On the left of the entrance is Sussex Tower, the lofty bartizans and spires of which are visible from many distant points, also the keep and eastern towers. The building consists of two courts, the inner and outer, separated from each other by the Grand Armoury. The north-west front, which is moated, contains the offices, above which are the warder's chamber, used as a butler's pantry, the kitchen, and housekeeper's room ; and in a line on the north- east, the drawing-room, which is in Sussex Tower, the breakfast-room, dining-room, library, entrance-hall, and the ante-room to the Asiatic armoury, — the Asiatic armoury itself being in the Eastern Tower. Parallel to this are the Hastilude Chamber, Grand Armoury, and Chapel, and parallel to the north-west front are the South Sea Room and Banqueting Hall. A proper description of the extensive and unrivalled collection of armour and antiquities can only be found in the able works of the learned proprietor, but I shall briefly enumerate a few of the objects which chiefly attracted my attention. On the door is the splendid bronze knocker and key- GOODBICH COUET. 117 hole escutcheon^ beautifully designed by Giovanni di Bologna^ the former representing the destruction of the Philistines by Samson. The Entrance Hall is ornamented with stags^ horns of various kinds> ancient . weapons and hunting-arms tastefiilly grouped; and the fireplace^ of Painswick stone^ is from a beautiful design by Mr. Blore. The apartment is divided by an archway^ and at the first landing of the staircase^ which leads to the prindpai bed-chambers^ is the oriel window, superbly fitted up with painted glass, representing the figure of Meuric or Meyrick ab Llewelyn of Bodorgan, in the island of Anglesey, esquire of the body to King Henry VII., with the family arms, crest, and motto. The beautiful antique lamp of bronze, which lights the staircase, is of Greek art, was dug out of the ruins of Herculaneum, and is probably two thousand years old. From this hall a sallyport with drawbridge leads to the Ladies' Terrace, from which another bridge crosses the moat to some steps that form on agreeable descent to the flower garden, and thence through a hanging wood to the river. To the left of the entrance hall is Henry VI.'s Gallery, leading to the library, which is fitted up after the fashion adopted in the reign of Henry VIII. The beautiful carved oak ceiling and frieze in this room were formerly in the Government- house at Breda, in Holland. On the table, which is of the time of Henry VIIL, are caskets, inkstands, can- dlesticks, &c., of the same period, and over the mantle- piece the astrolabe of that monarch, with his armorial bearings and motto engraved thereon. In one of the drawers are two exquisite gems by Holbein, of the king, and Ann of Cleves. The Dining BtOOM in its external architecture is of Edward II.'s time. The 118 GOODRICH COURT. ceiling is fonned of cross beams held by open spandrils and supported on foliated corbels of Painswick stone. The chimney-piece greatly resembles those in Goodrich Castle. This room contains a valuable collection of paintings^ most of which are landscapes and sea-pieces^ by excellent Dutch and English artists^ and which have been in Sir SamuePs family for many years. The Breakfast Boom carries the visitor many centuries forward^ and places him amidst the gorgeous furni- ture and flowing patterns of the days of Queen Anne, of which the panels on the walls^ the window curtains and hangings of the recess, the gilt pier-table, the stand in the centre of the room, the looking-glasses. Save and Dresden porcelain, and the splendid dock, are originals of that age. The Drawing Koom returns to the time of the Plantagenets. It is octagonal, and groined in the ceiling, with gilt bosses. The oak table in the centre is from the only remaining example of the kind, which is preseryed in the Chapter-house at Salisbury, and the fireplace from that beautiful spe- cimen of the close of Edward II.'s reign. Prior Craw- den's, at Ely. On the table are a pair of candlesticks of copper enamelled, seven hundred years old, and an inkstand formed of various pieces of similar work of the same age, with four very curious dishes, and some interesting ivory caskets. On the recesses in the walls are the following paintings, by Mr. John Coke Smith : — the legend of St. George and the Dragon; the romance of Sir Tristrem ; the tale of the Comptesse de Vergi ; and that of the Tournament of the White Garment. On the right of the entrance hall is the ante-room to the Asiatic Armoury, the cornice and dado of which GOODRICH COURT. 119 are taken from the Alhambra. The spectator now stands amongst forms bearing the proportions and attitudes of real life^ the first of which is the mounted figure of a Luti Pindarrie on his Arabian steed^ from a drawing by Captain Grrindley^ who brought the chain armour and horse-trapping (aU the head gear being of solid silver) to this country. Two glass cases contain a variety of arms and armour from different parts of Asia. In this apartment too is an elaborate and beau- tiful Persian chess-board of ebony, ivory^ and metal inlaid. A triple-headed arch in the Eastern style opens to the Asiatic Armoury, in which is seen an oriental rajah wearing a coat of plate, before whom kneels a horse soldier from Delhi, in his long coat of chain armour. On each side are figures on horseback, and others standing, which exhibit varieties of Indian and Persian armour. A glazed recess is appropriated in a similar manner to those in the ante-room, and various weapons decorate the walls. A valuable series of Hindoo deities and several rare Chinese curiosities are arranged in two glass cases, one on each side the window. The next in order is the South Sea Boom, which is filled with the rude weapons, feathered cloaks, &c., of the Pacific Ocean. The visitor quits this apartment for another portion of Henby VI.'s Gallery, the whole length of which is 106 feet. In the window is an admirable specimen of German painted glass, representing St. George in fluted armour, with the date 1517. On the right hand is a niche, in which stands a figure accoutred in, probably, the most magnificent suit in existence. This armour was made for the duke of Ferrara, to whom Tasso addressed his ''Jerusalem Delivered," and is beautifully embossed with bas-reliefis and iulaid 120 GOODRICH COURT. irith gold. In 1814 it was destined to adorn Bona* parte's imperial retreat of Malmaison, haying been actually packed in satin and put into a case for the purpose of being forwarded to him. Before^ however, it was despatched, the emperor had ceased to reign, and the armour remained atModena, until it was purchased for Sir Samuel Meyrick. Ample folding doors opposite this suit open to the Banqueting Hall, which is fifty feet in length. Over the entrance is the MinstreVs Gallery. On the raised floor at the upper end stands a billiard-table, on the south-east side of which is an oriel window, command- ing a view of Goodrich Castle, the river Wye, and the picturesque valley of the Lea Bailey. Near this window folding doors open to a covered way that leads to the harness-room and stables. The high pitched roof, with its pointed arches of oak, resting on corbels of stone, the oak floor, panelling, &c., and the chimney-piece most elaborately carved in Painswick stone, cannot fail to attract the attention of the visitor. The equestrian alto-relievo of Aylmer de Valence, who owned the castle and the land on which Goodrich Court is built, in the time of Edward II., introduced in a trefoil in the pediment, is improved from that on his monument in Westminster Abbey. The escutcheons of painted glass in the windows represent his armorial bearings, and those of the preceding owners of Goodrich Castle and its demesnes. The walls are embellished with portraits by foreign and English artists, and the niches by casts of Edward II. and his mother. The doors on the right of the billiard-table lead to the Hastilude Chamber, in which is the tournament armour, so arranged as to give the complete represen- GOODRICH COURT. 121 tation of a joust, with the lists, royal box, and heralds. It at the same time exhibits all the varieties of ''hast- ing-harness,'' or toamament armour, from the time of Henry YI. to that of Queen Elizabeth inclusiye. The next object of attraction is the Grand Armoury, eighty-six feet in length, with its oaken roof, floor, and gsdlery on three of its sides. In this gallery are ten glass cases to contain the more curious and rare speci- mens of armour, the contents of two of which, — ^viz., the ancient British arms and the consecutive series of guns, from the first invention to the firelock, are absolutely unique, while the Greek and Roman armour cannot fail to be highly interesting.^ Above these glass cases are the emblazoned banners of Edward II., his son, Roger de Chandos, Gilbert de Turbeville, Roger li Strange, Johan de Lacy, Morice de Barkly, Roger de Mortymer, Roger de Baskerville, Rychart de Talbote, Edmond de Bonn and Henri de Penbrugge, according to an ancient roll of arms of the period ; and which have been selected from these knights, holding lands in the county of Hereford. In the intervening spaces eighty-four halberds, from their earliest to their latest form, appear in groups. The oaken columns which support the gallery are surrounded by weapons of all other known kinds, and between them, and also in niches, are placed ten suits on horseback, and several on foot, from the time of Edward III. to that of James * Evei7 Tarieiy of the annour in this house, drawn by Sir S. Meyrick, according to scale, accompanied by explanations, vith Tiews of the Entrance Hall, Asiatic Armoury, Hastilude Chamber, and Grand Artnoury, has been engraved by Mr. Skelton, in bis " Illustra- tions of Arms and Armour," from the collections at Goodrich Court 122 GOODRICH COURT. 11.^ being the most comprehensive and instnictlTe col- lection of the kind in the world. In this assemblage of curiosities a group of five figures represents King Charles I. in an original buff jacket and goi^et^ with his armour on the floor of a tent^ and his crown and helmet on the table, attended by his standard-bearer, an officer of cuirassiers, giving direction to one of two pikemen, who, as well as their commander, appear in black corslets, and afford ex- amples of the large collars and gofered falling ruffs. The face and hand of King Charles, which rests on a rapier, were painted by H. P. Briggs, B.A., and are exquisitely executed, especially the hand, which is a perfect marvel. At the other end of the Armoury, under the archway, are two beautifully engraved half- suits from Florence, of the time of Queen Elizabeth, a handsome engraved manefare {rom Italy, and a most curious and interesting German saddle of the early part of the reign of Henry YI., on which is a minnesinger's love sonnet. The gallery of the Armoury opens to the Doucean* Museum; a most splendid and valuable collection of works of art, antiquities, and scientific objects, be- queathed to Sir Samuel Meyrick by that eminent anti- quary the late Francis Douce, Esq. A passage from this armoury leads to the Ante- * An ample catalogue has been printed of the contents, in the "Gentleman's Magazine," under the heads of paintings, tapestry, drawings, engravings, carvings in wood, carvings in ivory, enamels, cinque -cento bronzes, coins and medals, caste, miscellaccous antiquities, Egyptian antiquities, Greek antiquities, Boman antiquities, Moxican Antiquities, Persian antiquities and curiosities, Indian antiquities and curiosities, and Chinese antiquities and curiosities. GOODRICH COURT. 123 Chapki.^ in wMcli are two Welsh monumental inscrip- tions of the sixth century. Three steps ascend to the chapel^ which is entered through either of two arches contained within a large one^ with beautiful mouldings and enriched with figures. This is fitted up in the Boman Catholic manner^ with altar-piece^ confessional, font, and eagle desk. In the upper part of the altar- piece are four female saints, carved in oak, in the very best style of art, which are of the time of Edward IV., and other figures of the same period surmount the terminating finials of the whole. In the lower part are carvings in alabaster of the times of Edward 11.^ Ed- ward III., and Henry VI. The altar itself is covered with a crimson velvet doth, on which is worked a large Maltese gold cross; and upon it are six large candlesticks and various ancient ornaments. Under their respective helmets are two banners and a guidon, properly emblazoned. I must confess that to me a silent and motionless eflSgy, clothed in the suit of armour actually worn by some hero of ancient days, is a strange and solemn thingy at least a creator of solemn and not unprofitable thoughts, gazing^ as I do^ on the garb of one whose life was past^ and perhaps lost, in mortal struggles with his brother man ; whose firm-set limbs and iron sinews seemed to defy time and death; who once followed with living eagerness the waving banner that led to national honour, or, not unfrequently, to the deadly strife of private and personal quarrel : — "But they who fought are in ft bloody shroud, And those which waved are shredless dust ere now." 124 GOODBICH COURT. It is not only the historical^ but the moral and poetical associations which accompany these memories of the olden time, that give to such a rich and elabo- rate exhibition as this at Goodrich Court, a value and importance beyond the mere gratification of literary and antiquarian taste ; they make it the text*book from which both the mind and the heart draw lessons of instruction and deep interest. They serve to stimulate and feed what Serjeant Talford denominates ''that highest of all human faculties, the great mediatory and interfusing power of imagination/' which combines and blends the past and the present in one rich and har- monious pictm*e. This is truly ''the chamber of imagery V* The collection which Sir Samuel Meyrick has already made here, though exceedingly rare, precious, and more comprehensive than any other, must not be considered complete, and, indeed, I have reason to know, is not so deemed by the worthy knight, but rather as one in progress, which the erudite and indefatigable collector intends, by additions, to make valuable as a critical standard on the subject.''^ I have been tempted to stay longer at this extraor- dinary place, and to give a more particular description of the marvellous things it contains, than usually com- ports with the method of my wanderings; but certainly not more than the importance of the objects seemed to require, from their intimate connection with the annals of human life and action. The rudiments of history truly are to be found in the principles and passions of mankind ; but the changes which these have wrought * This ooUeotioD, I have understood, haa been ralaed at the Buin of £30,000. GOODRICH COURT. 135 in the condition of nations^ and in the order of the human mind^ are symbolized to us most distinctly by those external signs which belong to their various stages of advance or resiliency. Of these signs^ pro- bably none are so expressive as the fashions of peace, or the accoutrements of war. Even attributive words, in allusion to natural qualities and accidental associa- tions, so common amongst the Welsh and English, and, indeed, most other nations, and the soubriquets of monarchs and other remarkable persons, belong to this species of popular signs, and are indicative of the manners of their own times, and of distant eras in history. The English reader will be immediately sen- sible of this association when, in his researches, he meets with the terms Court-mantel and Ctsur de Lion, — ^and the ages of Henry II., with the Angevin fashions and piebald dresses, the very dandyism of our ancestors, which characterized the one, and the military ardoui- and daring valour of the crusading age, which belongs to the other, will rise visibly before him. Of all the changes to which European society has been subjected, that of the institution of Chivabry has proved the most productive of important results, whether considered in its immediate tendency or its remote effects. I refer not to that stage of its history in which the investiture with the toga, or with arms, existed from the time of Tacitus to the termination of the Saxon period, which merely marked the attainment of a state of manhood by the candidate; but most espe- cially to that era when knighthood became a specific dignity, claiming peculiar objects, and subjecting its members to a course of rigorous discipline; combining 126 GOODRICH COURT. them together into fellowships^ and binding them ^by roles from which they conld not depart without loss of fame or life. The institution of Chivalry sprang up in the year 1025, when public licentiousness was at its height, originating with the clergy, and comprehending the nobility of Europe, from the age of twelve years. Its first rules were confirmed at the Council of Bonrges, and amplified at that of Clermont. The oath, by which its members were bound together, was the following : — ''To defend the Christian religion; faithfully to practise the morals of it ; to defend widows, orphans, and the weaker sex; not to make war on account of goods and effects, but to let such disputes be decided judicially; and to keep the truces of Qoi" * Such an institution, from the animating qpirit it infused into its members, necessarily made way for degrees of merit, arising from the performance of heroic deeds, and these to correspondent distinctions. The inventive genius of man contrived to render these dis- tinctions permanent and hereditary by representative figures, emblematical devices, and mottoes, conveying by these signs images, as it were, of real events, and words significant of certain actions or characteristic sentiments. From hence arose the science of heraldry, with all its materiel of ''armories," banners, and gor- geous dresses, displaying ensigns which related to rank, tenure, contracts, deeds of arms, dvil feuds, or national wars. Heraldry became also a painted language, fur- nished with an artistical phraseology of "tinctures," * These were the Church's fieasts and their evw, and the space of time between Wednesday evening and Monday morning. This rule was enforced under the penalty of death, or of abandoning Christendom. GOODRICH COURT. 127 gvlesj azure, sinople, and sable, and their representative lines, points, chequers, stripes, crosses, and figures, and these again indented, ingrained, invecked, waved, nebuled, or embattled; with the family relationships designated by label, crescent, star, martlet, ring, and fleur-de-lis, extending from the eldest to the youngest son, in their order of seniority, till it finally developed itself in an established and well-understood series of hierogljrphics — ^the alphabet of the heroic age of Christendom, — ^which may be read and interpreted even now by the learned antiquary, as he passes through the halls in which, it will appear, I have lingered so long and satisfactorily, suggestive of the most pregnant events, and deeply inscribed with moral and economic reflections. Of the use of this science, it may be proper to make one observation. The very constitution of man leads him to aim at eminence, and the various qualities which he possesses fit him for it. Heraldry, therefore, in its organic character, is but the invention of a series of symbols, formed on purpose to designate these inevit- able distinctions, and to allure forward to their attain- ment. The art of war has given place to the arts of peace; and this science, with the peculiar pliancy of which it is susceptible, has become subservient to the best purposes of society, and an active stimulus to merit in all the forms that can adorn or benefit the human race. The poet Hayley has some excellent lines to express this longing after an earthly immortality : — "The fond desire to pan the nameless crowd. Swept Ifom the earth in dark ObUvioa's dond ; 128 GOODRICH COURT. Of iranrient life to leave lome little tnoe. And win remembnmoe from the rising iftoe ;— To cfttch the pnuee that roee from human breath. To bind the guerdon paet the power of death ; — And man ere long the wondront aeoret found. To paint the voic^ and fix the fleeting tound." The upper apartments^ which are furnished and de- corated in correspondence with the titles they bear^ consist of Sir Oelley's Chamber^ Charles I/s Room, Charles II/s Gallery, William III/s Boom, the Prince's Chamber and Dressing-room, the Greek Boom, are not usually shown to the public, nor, indeed, are some of the apartments which I have described, but of which I was allowed the inspection by the learned and hospitable owner of Goodrich Court. We must hasten now from the new Court and its old treasures, and enter the tenantless halls of the Castle, which, seated in its faded but impressive gran- deur on an adjoining height, forms a chief object in the delightful landscape commanded by the windows and grounds of the Court. On a near approach, the exterior of Goodrich is less striking than that of many other castles, except the gateway, which is eminently beautiful, flanked by its ivy-grown towers, and showing beneath its arches the lofty window of the opposite tower, and through that the distant Court and its girdling woods. The construction of this fortified entrance is very remarkable. It appears to have been one of the additions made to the fortress down to the time of Henry YI. — ^the keep, of which I shall speak hereafter, having been erected antecedently to the Conquest. The entrance, commencing between two semicircular towers of unequal dimensions, near the / y nniif ^ > f .U€M,%ZUfJJfTJI, fn»>'M V/Ju'VryU Ch«r>FLt-OtT>». P, I at U.«ul«i GOODRICH COURT. 129 east angle, is continued under a dark vaulted passage, to an extent of fifty feet. Immediately before this entrance, and within the space inclosed by the fosse, was a very deep pit, hewn out of the solid rock, formerly crossed by a drawbridge, which is now gone, but which appears to have exactly fitted, and to have closed, when drawn up, the whole front of the gateway between the towers. About eleven feet within the passage was a massy gate ; this gate and the drawbridge were defended on each side by loopholes, and overhead by rows of machicolations, for pouring down melted lead, scalding water, &c., on the heads of the assailants. Six feet and a half beyond this was a portcullis, and about seven further, a herse (a kind of portcullis) ; the space between these was again protected by loopholes. About two feet more inward, was another strong gate; and beyond this, on the right, a small door leading to a long narrow gallery, formed in the thickness of the wall, which was the means of access to the eastern tower, and commanded the steep brow of the hill towards the north-east. This narrow, dark, winding passage I explored under the guidance of the old deputy-governor of the castle, and was not a little amused by his great anxiety to make me thoroughly conversant with his lore, touching the wonders and merits of Ooodiich. CHAPTER VIIL KOSS TO MONMOUTH BY WATER — COLDWELL ROCKS — SYMOND^S YAT — DOWARD — MONMOUTH — RAQLAND. ''Down the swift riyer, the fbll-flowing river, Oar lighi*fireighted berk glideth on ; While in the wavee erer, the tree shadowe qniver— Oh ! who can be gloomy t — not one. What day is too long, with the merry boat song. Bright sunshine and blessed blue sky- While meadow flowers young, o'er the sedgy banks flung, Kod and laugh as we gaily glide by." Early tlie following momingi I entered a boat at Boss^ on my way to Monmouth. My " light bark " was not much unlike a gondola^ when its tarpauling cover was spread over the framework; but, being favoured by a radiantly bright morning, I preferred sitting under the skeleton, and enjoying the charming scenes around me. A table in the centre of the part allotted to passengers, and cushioned seats around, made this small floating parlour a most commodious conveyance. After dropping past Wilton Castle, and beneath the bridge, we soon came in sight of Goodrich Court and Castle, well worthy their far-known fame. Richly wooded hiUs, well sprinkled with white cottages, whose thin blue smoke curled softly upward, oft«n rose COLDWELL ROCKS — STMOND's YAT. 131 in front. Kerne Bridge being passed^ and its surround- ing bosky hills and sun^biny meadows^ Bishop's Wood House appeared. The grounds of Courtfield skirt the river for some distance^ adding the great charm of their magnificent ornamental timber to the landscape. Pass- ing the Tillage of Lidbrook^ where a steam tram-road from Dean Forest brings coal for embarkation on the Wye, I gained a good view of Courtfield House.''^ Henry Y. is said to have been nursed in a more ancient house on the same site, belonging to the countess of Salisbury (ob. 1395), whose supposed monument in the neighbouring little church of Welsh Bicknor I landed to exaipine. Sir S. B. Meyrick has somewhat shaken the faith of the learned as respects- this monument,, pronouncing the costume to be of the time of Edward I. A winged angel on either side the head havjS been, ab- surdly enough, supposed to represent the ypung Henry and his fellow-suckling Approaching the foot of Coldwell Bocks, a most sublime and majestic scene presents itself. These grand, and in some places precipitous, limestone cliffs are overhung with richly varied tufts of oak and under- wood, traversed by deep dells and gulleys. The smooth luxuriant hill called Bosemary Topping, beautifully contrasts with and enhances the magnificent sternness of these wild crags. For a considerable distance they present one continued panorama of grandeur and sub- * The wteto connected wiih Uus place fonnerly belonged to the fkmily of the Yaugheiui, the descendanta of Cradoo Vreich Yraa— Cnuloe of the atnmg arm— with whom is aMociated that beauUful poetioal tale of " the boy and the mantle^" to be found in "Perey'a Beliquea.** & 2 132 DOWARD. limity. Arrived at tlie landing-place for the ascent of Symond's Yat, I disembarked, and wended my weary way to the summit, tlirough a wood abounding in curious plants, and gay with a rich profusion of wild autumn berries. On attaining the small platform of rock crowning the narrow ridge, round which the river makes the extraordinary circuit of four miles, a view of great grandeur displayed itself, and reclining on the turf, telescope in hand, I quietly enjoyed it. The chief eminences in Radnor and Brecknockshire, the Malvern Hills, Black Mountains, and the immediately near range of limestone crags, with the river winding brightly beneath, ana distant spires and towers peeping above their encircling woods, all lit up in fair sunshine, made a grand and interesting picture^ A double entrenchment runs across this "Tower of rock, that seemB to cry, Go round about me^ neighbour Wye.*' A few coracles were on the river, with their stiU, patient occupants, the salmon fishers, as I passed round the peninsular-shaped flat beyond Symond^s Yat, and by the diminutive church of Whitcchurch. Large * Upon the Little Doward, a hill of peculiarly fine outline, -viewed in front, from the Monmouth road, are the interesting remaiuB of a Britiah camp. Three circular terraces wind up to the summit. It is a valuable relic of British fortification, where Caractacus probably posted himself for how otherwise are the adjacent Roman camps on the Great Doward and Symond*s Tat to be accounted for t Ostorius probably attempted to force him by the Great Doward, but apparently did not succeed, and, being compelled to cross the river, encamped at gymond's Tat. The inference is drawn from the circumstance of the Gauls having taken up a position protected by a river, where even Cnsar declined action.»J20v. T, J), Fofbroke, i MONMOUTH. 133 masses of rock are here insulated by the river^ which vainly chafes and foams among them. The great Doward Hill soon rose in. all its grandeur on the right, galleried throughout by quarries, and rendered wildly beautiful by the misty smoke from its numerous kilns and cottages, which are sprinkled all over its fantastic heights, wherever a tiny cabin can find room to perch itself. The New Weir here received our boat in its swelling eddy, and the foaming, roaring water added not a little to the interest of the scene. Lofty rocks now rise on both sides, robed in infinite varieties of wood and shrub of every imaginable tint, showing the pale grey of the limestones, contrasted richly by the bright red, green, yellow, and brown of the autumn foliage. Many portions of the craggy cliflFs have the appearance of ruined castles and towers. Three re- markable ones are named the three sisters, — ^Ann, Mary, and Elizabeth, — right venerable personages. King Arthur, that hero of " oldenne tyme,*' has a hall and chair named to his honour in this neighbourhood ; the latter is a semicircular hollow near the Little Doward, on which are the remains of a British camp. Here, in a spot called Martin's Pool, the river is said to be seventy feet deep. Handsome and tasteful resi- dences now frequently appear on the wooded banks, among which the Leys, Vaga Cottage, and Newton Hall, are the chief. The approach to Monmouth is very pleasing, and the town occupies a position of great beauty, lying in a valley surrounded by hiUs, and nearly encircled by two rivers, the Wye and Monnow. The few remains of the castle stand upon an eminence to the south of the 134 MONMOUTH FBIORT. Monnow. A British fortress is said to have existed here previously to the Roman Conquest^ and to hare been occupied by the Saxons. The castle is supposed to have been rebuilt by John^ baron of Monmouth, who, in 1257, resigned it to Prince Edward, afterwards Edward I. In 1265, Simon, earl of Leicester, besieged Gilbert, earl of Gloucester, and levelled the castle with the ground. It was, however, rebuilt, and devolved to John of Gaunt, whose son, Henry of Bolingbroke, was afterwards Henry IV., during whose reign this fortress became the birth-place of Henry V., consequently sumamed Harry of Monmouth. The priory was founded by Withenoc de Monmouth, in the reign of Henry I., for Benedictine monks, and suppressed at the dissolution. Traces of it are visible to the north of St. Mary's Church. Old Lambarde says it was " a small monastery, valued in the Records at fifty-six poundes by yeare." The Priory-house, which is now used as a national school, contains an apartment, celebrated as the library of Galfredius Arthurius, bishop of St. Asaph, much better known by the name of Geoffrey of Monmouth, ''The chronicler of Briton's kinges» From Brute to Arthur's nyne." He is supposed to have been educated in this monas- tery, and was appointed archdeacon of Monmouth in 1151; but was shortly afterwards advanced to the bishopric of St. Asaph, in the time of Henry II. He translated the history of Britain fix>m the ancient British language into the Latin, and also the amusing prophecies of Merlin from British verse into Latin MONMOUTH. 135 prose. Our great Welsh hero, Owen Qlyndwr, was much indebted to these prophetic writings, as they ren- dered him essential service, by favouring his high pre- tensions to sovereignty. The veracity of Greoflfrey, as an historian, has been doubted by many; Camden remarks, that his relation of Brutus and his successors ought to be totally disregarded; but Fuller speaks honourably of his literary labours, and compares him to Herodotus. " There is no reason,'' says the learned historian of St. Asaph, '' why he should be so bitterly inveighed against, concerning the famous history under his name, he being no more than the Fldus interpres, or translator of it, and making himself in no ways accountable for the credit of the story delivered in his book, the blame of which, as his apologists allege, ought to be laid upon his authors, and not upon him ; since upon a late examination, he is found not to have invented, or added anything of his own.'' Of his character, however, it is said, " that he was all his life- time a great courtier, entirely at the king's beck, busy- ing himself in the royal party against Thomas h Becket, and was employed to absolve Richard de Lucy and others from the excommunication of that proud pre- late." Monmouth is one of those clean, pleasant, country towns, having within itself the vivacity of intelligent and social life, and possessing in its neighbourhood the attributes of surpassing natural beauty. Its thorough- fares are comparatively spacious, and a great improve- ment has been effected lately by the formation of a handsome crescent-street, overlooking the river Mon- now, with a rich and varied landscape, backed by the 136 MONMOUTH. bold outlines of the Sugar Loaf range of mountains. At the east end a noble building has just been com- pleted in the Grecian order, as a market-place; con- taining underneath an extensive range of abattoirs, with every convenience attached to it. To families of respectability this town offers many inducements ; it is the centre of the Wye scenery, and affords innumerable picturesque walks and rides. The prices of provisions and necessaries are moderate; river-fish, fruits, and vegetables are abundant ; and the climate is rendered mild and healthy, by the screen of the surrounding hills from prejudicial winds. Angling is a common diversion; and, during the season, packs of fox-hounds and harriers yield amusement to the sportsman. The present trade of Monmouth is principally in timber and bark, for which the ample forests in its neighbourhood render it peculiarly suitable. The celebrated " Mon- mouth caps,'' mentioned by Shakspeare, and described by Fuller as " the most warm and profitable coverings of men's heads in this island," are no longer the staple commodity at this place ; the manufacture, " on the occasion of a great plague happeniiig in this town," having been removed to Bewdley; but the chapel of St. Thomas, an interesting specimen of Saxon architec- ture, formerly belonging to the members of the "craft," still exists. This edifice is of very ancient date, and had stood for a long time in a dilapidated condition, but it has recently been repaired and fitted up under the direction of Mr. Wyatt of Troy House, in excellent keeping with the original building, and possesses two fine original specimens of the Saxon arch and doorway. The bridge over the Monnow, which was built by MONMOUTH. 137 Edward I.^ in 1272, will attract the inspection of the visiter, not only for its own sake, but because there stands upon it the remains of one of the ancient gates of the town, which is quite an object of antiquarian curiosity. Surmounting the Saxon gateway is a room which has been sometimes used as a guard-room or a magazine, and immediately above the arch are three loopholes, which were made by the authorities of the place, through which to defend the town, in 1839, from the expected visit of the Chartists of Newport. The traveller who enters an ancient town like this of Monmouth, commences his researches amongst these mouldering remains, which carry him back in imagina- tion to the dark and bloody ages of the nation^s history, over which, it may be, the enterprise of some daring spirit has shed a transient and delusive halo. Those institutions of benevolence which distinguish the com- paratively modern days of England, are passed by as common-place things, and scarcely excite an inquiry. There is one, however, in this place, over which an air of romance is thrown which will go far to rescue it from this general neglect. On the south-east side of the town stands a row of neat almshouses, which bears a tablet in the centre, instructing the stranger's eye that it was founded by William Jones, " citizen and haber- dasher of London, in 1615.*' The founder was the child of poor parents residing in Newland, a neigh- bouring parish, and lived at an inn in Monmouth, in one of the most menial situations. Such was his poverty that he was obliged to leave the town, from his inability to pay some trifling debt he had contracted. He repaired to London, and engaged as a porter to a 138 MOXMOUTH. Hamburgh merchant^ nrhicb place he fulfilled so much to the satisfaction of his master^ that he had him instructed in the necessary qualifications for a counting- house, and successively promoted him to the situation of supercargo in one of his vessels, and general manager of his business, till he finally resigned the whole of his mercantile affairs in his favour. As a merchant on his own account he soon rose to great opulence, and became a member of the Worshipful Company of Haber- dashers. A strange conceit seems to have taken him at this time, and he determined upon an expedition to his native place in the character of a pauper. Having put on his beggarly gabardine, he presented himself before the authorities to claim assistance in his new character, but was rudely repulsed and referred to Mon- mouth as his place of settlement. To Monmouth he repaired, and with better success ; for his wants were kindly relieved, and he left the place in the same dis- guise in which he had entered it. This kindness he never forgot, and at his death devised a splendid benefaction, for the building of twenty almshouses and the endow- ment of a school, which, from the judicious investment of the trustees, and the increase in the value of pro- perty, will, in process of time, ftimish an establishment of the most valuable kind in the kingdom. The good man was forgiving in his disposition, and though he did not forget the treatment he received in his native place, he bequeathed a handsome sum for the same purposes in Newland, though not equal in amount, nor so successfully managed. The Kymin, about a mile and a half from Monmouth, is a lofty eminence, rising nearly 700 feet from the bed MONMOUTH. 139 of the Wye, surmounted by a monument in commemo- ration of the gallant admirals of the British navy ; and the ^'Summer House/' a circular embattled tower about thirty feet high, erected by subscription for the social parties of Monmouth, before its harmony was disturbed by political factions. The summit is spread over a beautiful table-land, on which is an avenue of pine and other trees, and the foreground forms a succession of vignettes of broken rocks and inter- mingled foliage. The hill-point slopes gently down towards the east and south in corn-fields and pastures, and is backed by the dark umbrage of Stanton Meend. On the west, the view is extensive and delightful almost beyond description, comprehending, in the utmost range of vision, the beacons of Brecon, and the distant moun- tains of Olamorganshire, and gradually subsiding to the wood-crowned hills that spring from the Wye, the lovely vale in which beats the heart of Monmouth — that heart of many chords, — and the sportive river, which holds on its gladsome way, now gently drawn out like a shining thread amidst the green meadows, and now rushing with a turbulence so unlike its usual placid humour between its stony walls, and over those im- mense fragments of broken rocks that in vain attempt to impede its course. The Buckstone — a mile south-east of the Kymin — is a famous rocking-stone of the Druids, which may be seen distinctly rising from amongst the woods that sur- round it. Such stones formed an important feature in the ancient Celtic superstitions, and were used in divination, the vibration determining the oracle. Their sound, when violently pushed, very probably served to 140 BAGIAND. arouse the coimtry on an enemy's approach ; and the passage or path invariably found encircling them, intimates the perambulation to have been a sacred performance. The situation of the stone near Mon- mouth, vfBs evidently chosen because it could be conspicuous for miles round. Quitting Monmouth, on an excursion to Ragland Castle, my way lay over a considerable hill about a mile from the town, commanding a most lovely and luxuriant landscape. From this eminence, the rich valley in which Monmouth is situated, and the beauties of the surrounding country, are seen to great advantage. The castle lies a short distance from the village of Ragland, on an elevated site, and forms the most picturesque and beautiful ruin I am anywhere ac- quainted with. It may rather be termed a castellated mansion than a castle, and is, in many parts, in good preservation, much of the elaborate carved stone-work remaining as sharp and distinct as when first erected. The general view, obtained on entering the gates, is truly magnificent. Immediately in front is the grand entrance, guarded by three massive towers, their summits gracefully adorned with ivy, which hangs in thick drapery over the dim Gothic arch, through which a glimpse is gained of the decayed splendour of the inner court. The citadel, or Yellow Tower, as it was called, with its bastions, stands on the left; its surrounding moat is adorned by trees and shrubs, springing from crevices in the mouldering walls, and dipping their branches in the reflecting water below. A geometrical staircase leads to the top, where an extensive and diversified view may be enjoyed. RAGLAND CASTLE. 141 Ragland does not claim so many antiquarian honours as some other castles^ not having been erected prior to the reign of Henry V. ; many additions were made to it in that of Elizabeth^ and also so late as Charles I. The fashions of the arches, doors, windows, &c., are progressively of the intermediate ages. Its construction may be ascribed principally to Sir William ap Thomas, and his son, the earl of Pembroke; additions were made by the earls of Worcester, and the citadel and outworks were probably added by the marquis of Worcester, who last resided in this sumptuous mansion. During the civil commotions, Charles I. made several visits to Ragland Castle, and was entertained with great magnificence. At one time the king, being appre- hensive lest the stores of the castle should be consumed by his suite, empowered the marquis of Worcester to exact from the country such provisions as were necessary for his remuneration. " I humbly thank your Majesty," he answered, ''but my castle would not long stand if it leaned upon the country ; I had rather be brought to a morsel of bread, than that any morsels of bread should be exacted from others." A speech worthy of remembrance and appreciation. The extreme beauty of parts of this grand edifice no pen, and but few pencils, can justly present to those who know not the reality.* The Fountain Court (so * It may not be amiss here to mention the obligations which the proprietors of this work are under to thi^ highly-esteemed artist, and fikithfhl delineator of scenery, Mr. David Coz, whose pencil has enriched and enhanced the value, not only of this volume, but also of that recently published on the Northern part of the Principality. The Beaufort Arms^ at Baglaod, is an excellent house. 142 KAOLAMD CA8TLB. called from a foantain of a white hone, long since departed) is singularly beautiful ; and the unobtrusive and truly good taste which has in some places added the loveliness and fragrance of sweet flowers, roses, jasmine, &c., among the '' clambering ivy,'' is extremely pleasing. The space of ground within the castle walls is upwards of four acres. A smoothly-turfed raised terrace surrounds the moat ; and stately pageantries of olden days seem to revive fix)m their long sleep, and airily glide before us while pacing along its quiet expanse. The Grand Hall has been cruelly disfigured by a recent daubing of the walls to imitate wainscot, done in preparation for a great banquet, given a short time since by the country gentlemen to Lord Granville Somerset, one of their members. To this hall was formerly attached a music gallery, and as the earl of Worcester was governor of all South Wales, the bards had used to assemble here on occasions of state. The present silence and solitude of the place is a strange contrast to that ecstasy of life and melody that in former times rang through it so merrily. The parks appertaining to this magnificent domain once extended to the distance of four miles. The camp of the besieging army, under Sir Thomas Fairfax, occupied a ridge of land about half a mile to the eastward of the castle, at the back of which were ex- tensive fish-ponds, covering a space of twenty acres. On the surrender of the castle, the magnificent library of the noble proprietor, said to be the finest in Europe, was completely destroyed. The apothegms of the marquis of Worcester are remarkable both for their wit and stem truth. The discouriies which he held with RAGLAND CASTLE. 143 the unfortunate Charles, while he sojourned here, were singular for their boldness, and remind us of those which took place at Denbigh Castle with the same prince, when Sir John Salusbury, commonly called Blue Stocking, was governor of that fortress. Returning to Monmouth, Troy House claims a passing notice for the sake of the antiquities it is said to contain, — ^viz., the cradle of Henry V., apparently a machine of much more recent construction than its assigned era ; a suit of armour allotted by tradition to the same royal hero in his exploits at Agincourt, and a fine carved chimney-piece from Eagland Castle, whence, doubtless, the other two antiques have been obtained, having belonged to some of the Worcester family. An interesting little church at Micheltroy, and a curious cross in the pretty churchyard, where laurels and other evergreens form a garden among the tombs, attracted my attention in passing; but nothing worthy of any lengthened description stayed my return to Monmouth, which, with its bright river and lovely scenery, looked in the distance like Fairy-land. Five miles from Monmouth, at the village of Treleck, are some interesting Druidical and British antiquities, consisting of monumental stones, sacred springs, an enormous tumulus, and other remains. On the height of Craig y dorth, close by, Owen Glyndwr obtained a victory CHAPTEU IX. EFDBROOK — LLANDOGO — BROCKWEIR — TINTERN — WIND- CLIFF — PIERCEFIELD — CHEPSTOW — BRISTOL CHANNEL. O sylvan Wye, thou wanderer through the woodi^ How often haa my spirit turned to thee I Thy beauteous forms. Through a long absence have not been to ma As is a landscape to a blind man's eye: But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din Of towns and cities, I have owed to them. In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart ; And passing even into my purer mind, With tranquil restoration. WORD8WOBTB*8 Wn BeVISITBD. A CALM bright afternoon of autumn found me quietly joumeTing from royal Monmouth towards the end of my pleasant Wye wanderings; few greater pleasures could befall me than the enjoyment of Nature's glories so lavishly bestowed around. For a considerable dis- tance the scenery maintained the same rich character. On the Monmouthshire side of the river^ a mile below the town^ is the Church of Penalty situated on the steep side of a wooded eminence, at the back of which is an extensive common. On this common is a large oak-tree, and at its foot a stone seat. When a corpse is brought by, on its way to the place of interment, it PENALT — REDBROOK. 145 is deposited on this stone^ and the company sing a psalm over the body. Psalmody over the corpse signified the conquest of the deceased friend over hell, sin, and death. Here is an evident continuation of the oak and stones of Druidism and Celtic customs, altered into a Christian form. It is '^ the song of bards, which rose over the dead,'' mentioned in Ossian's death of Cuth- uUin ; an accompaniment of the Irish howl, and altered by the popes into the trental. The road winds for some distance along the side of lofty wooded hills, amid whose deep recesses the wood- man's axe waa ringing, followed often by the rustling and heavy fall of some doomed tree ; while groups of women and children, busily engaged in barking the fallen timber, sent forth many a peal of merry-cadenced laughter. Instead of detailing these beauties of autumn in prose, I cannot do better than borrow a description, which in its materials will be found the metrical version of every one's thoughts in this woodland district. " Come now to the forest, for Autumn is there, She is painting its millions of leaves. With colQurs so varied, so rich, and so rare, That the eye scarce her cunning believes : She tinges and changes each leaf o'er and o*er, Nor flings it to earth till 'twill vary no more. " The glorious cedars she ever in vain Tries to dress in chameleon hue, For they brave all her arts, and the verdure retain Of their Spring-time the whole Winter through : And the sturdy Scot's fir lifts its dark-crested head Unchanged o'er the path where the brown leaves are spread." Upi)er and Lower Bedbrook, beyond Penalt, on the Gloucestershire side, present, in their busy manufac- 146 ST. beiavel's castle. turing activity, a lively, and, in passing, not an un- pleasing contrast to the stillness of the if ide hills and woods; large iron and tin works beiog carried on there. The small stream which gives the villages their name, serves to turn several mills; and the little cot- tages mingled with other more pretending structures in the village valley, with the woods around, and the Hill of Highbury to the south (apparently the site of an ancient intrenchment), form an interesting landscape. Passing on by Whitebrook, a busy station for paper- mills. Pen y Van Hill appears on the right bank, a large heathery eminence, with a promontory-like summit crowned by a Maypole, around which the merry dances and festivities of the olden time are kept up by the peasantry in due season, with great spirit. Bordering the road, about a mile from where it crosses the river, is a tasteful Anglo-Swiss cottage residence, called '' The Florence,^' the shooting-seat of the late Captain Rooke. Crossing the Wye over a handsome iron bridge, cast at Merthyr Tydvil, Big's Weir House, the forsaken family mansion of Mr. Rooke's forefathers, with its gardens and terraces, forms an important and pleasing object in the view ; behind which rises the lofty Hud- knolls, on whose summit the remains of St. BriavePs Castle still exist. The fortress of St. Briavel stands on the verge of the forest of Dean ; it was built by the earl of Hereford, in the reign of Henry I., and appears to have been of considerable magnitude and strength; it was formerly the residence of the Lords Warden of the marches of England and Wales; and in it there is still held an occasional court — a remnant of feudal I f- LLANDOGO — BROCKWEIR. 147 Saxon jurispradence. From the summit are rich and varied prospects^ including several villages and woods^ the bright meandering river, and many distant eminences. We now enter the little village of Llandogo, on the right of which is a new mansion belonging to J. Gough, Esq., of Perry Barr, in StaflTordshire, erected in the Tudor style, from a design by Mr. Wyatt, of London. It is built of the rich red stone of the hill quarry, and occupies a terraced site surrounded by a buttressed wall, on the woody side of the Cleddon hill, and is itself a beautiful object to the eye of the traveller, while it commands, from its bay-windows, the beauties of the surrounding sceneiy. Near it is a ravine closely embraced by overhanging trees, down which flows the cascade of Cleddon Shoots. Presently the Wye becomes a tide river, and the former purity of the stream is quite sullied and lost. Brookweir or Brockweir, a prettily situated and populous little hamlet, lies on the left bank, and from the sights and sounds about, I should conclude shipbuilding to be the reigning craft of the place. Here large trows from Bristol, borne up by the tide, transfer their heavy ladings to lighter vessels. Brockweir is about nine miles fit)m Monmouth, and midway between the town and Chepstow by water. Following a short bend of the river round some ver- dant meadows, we pass the small straggling village of Tintern Parva, at the head of which is the little tower- less church, with its two venerable yews, and the ruined building of what was once probably the private dwelling of the abbot of Tintern; and passing round another horse-shoe curve, reach Abbey Tintern, amid whose squalid huts and dingy houses the stately ruin of L 2 148 TINTERN ABBET. ita once and even still magnificent Abbey Chnrch rears its proud head. " How manj hearts have here grown cold. That sleep these mouldering stones among I How many beads have here been told 1 How many matins here been snng. * 4t * * " But here no more soft mnsic floats^ Ko holy anthems chanted now ; All hushed except the ring-dove's noiM, Low munn'ring from yon beachen bough." Seated in a picturesque and mountain-girt valley, close to the Wye, the position of Tintem Abbey ib every vay calculated to render it a grand landscape beauty. With eyes bent on the ground, the visitor carefully enters the low western door, and then raising his glance and gazing around, he is either less easily excited to ad- miration, or has more command over himself than I, if he can refrain from some demonstration of delight. The ruin is two hundred and thirty feet in length, and sixty- three in breadth. The transept is one hundred and fifty feet long. The architecture is scarcely even defaced by time, but few columns having fallen; and the loss of these is partly hidden, and quite compensated for, by the rich, heavy folds of nature's most graceful drapery, luxuriant ivy, which adorns the lofty aisles and transepts of this majestic edifice, and scarcely suffers us to regret that it is a ruin. Small ferns and flowers of many hues spring from every ledge and opening, and the massy broken walls sustain a tiny forest of ash, and privet, and wild intertwining roses, — ^while the fragrant and beautiful wall-flower wanders over arch and window, decking vj^hi^ir * jf^ .».:^:i? :X";r . TINTBBN ABBEY. 149 them with its fair garb of green and gold^ and crowning the decaying pile as with a halo. The area of the rain has been rather too neatly cleared^ and is smoothly turfed over, with the prostrate columns and fragments ranged carefully along. But the very smoothness of the ground, however incon- sistent, perhaps only renders the grand proportions of the "long-drawn aisle" more striking and beautiful. Hoofed only by the vault of heaven — paved only with the grass of earth, Tintern is probably now more impressive and truly beautiful, than when " with storied windows richly dight;'* for Nature has claimed her share in its adornment, and what painter of glass, or weaver of tapestry, may be matched with her? The singularly light and elegant eastern window, with its one tall muUion ramifying at the top, and leaving the large open spaces beneath to admit the distant land- - scape of the waving woods of Shorn Cliff, is one chief feature in Tintern. The western window is peculiarly rich in ornament, and those of the two transepts of like character, though less elevated. By the kindness of the duke of Beaufort, a strong iron railing is passed round the upper walls, so that the visitor may with safety traverse the greater part of the transept, at a considerable height from the floor. I availed myself of his grace's provision, and mounted the winding stair- case, tablets in hand, and became sensible how much better my eye could measure the magnitude of the building from this midway elevation. 1 had no sooner ascended this tower than the sentinel crow gave audible notice of my intrusion, and the whole ruins became vocal with the petulant clamour of the ebony tribe 150 TINTXKN ABBEY. against this invasion of their ancient domain. Even from the height on which I stood, the strangers below appeared little better than pigmies, and the sonorous voice of the old cicerone sounded strangely as he told to each new comer his wearisome tale. When I had finished my aeiial survey, I descended again to the floor, and passed in review confessionals and sacristy, refectory, kitchens, and dormitoriep> all silent, tenant- less, and in ruins. The area of the refectory bears an orchard of apple and pear trees, which, in the blossom- ing season, must look like the very bitterness of mockery upon these deserted halls. The wilderness of nettles, creepers,' wild weeds, and old fimtastic trees, that crowd the garden, seem as if they had mobbed the good fathers out of their paradise, and set up a democracy of all ill-looking, irreverend, and venomous things. The northern and southern doorways are of a different architectural order to the purer Gothic style of the rest of the abbey, and bear evidences of the transition state from the Saxon to the Norman styles. Several mutilated monuments lie among the ardii- tectural fragments xm the turf; one represents a knight in chain-mail, with crossed legs, as a crusader, or a vowee to take the cross : it is ascribed to Gilbert Strongbow (a hero often spoken of in these pages), as the Abbey Chronicle mentioned his interment here. Sir S. B. Meyrick considers the effigy to be that of Koger de Bigod. "In the year 610, Ceolwulph, king of Wessex, attacked the Britons in Glamorganshire. Theodoric, or Tewdric, the Welsh Eoitelet of that country, had resigned the throne to his son Mamice, and 'led an fy / TINT£RN ABBEY. 151 eremitical life among the rocks of Dindym/ H's former subjects used to say^ that he had always been victorious^ and that as soon as he shewed his face his enemies took to flight. They accordingly dragged him from the desert against his wil)^ and the royal hermit^ once more a general, routed the Saxons at this place. In the action he received a mortal wound on the head, and desired his body to be buried, and a church to be built upon the spot where he should happen to die. This place was Mathern, near Chepstow ; and Bishop Godwin says that he there saw his remains in a stone coffin." Tintem Abbey was founded for Cistercian Monks, in 1131, by Walter de Clare, "for the health of my soul," as his charter ran, and dedicated to the Virgin Mary. This Walter was a descendant of a family to whom William the Conqueror gave sundry estates in this neighbourhood, together with the privilege of possessing all he could wrest from the Welsh. He was succeeded by his brother Gilbert, sumamed Strongbow, first earl of Pembroke, who confirmed to the monks all the lands, possessions, liberties, and immunities granted by his predecessors. Afterwards, the male line failing, the heiress was married to Hugh Bigod, earl of Norfolk. At the time of the dissolution there were only thirteen inmates. The abbey and estates were given by Henry VIII. to the earl of Worcester, and subsequently became the property of the dukes of Beaufort. The remnants of the wall which inclosed the abbey grounds may yet be seen on one side climbing the hill, amidst the green umbrage of the forest, and on the other stands the water-gate, with its ruined defences, 152 TINTEBN ABBEY. * 1 through which the monks issued to cast a dragon-fly on ; the streanij and furnish the refectory with the delicious '' salmons" of the bountiful Wye. I The road gradually ascends beyond Tintem^ to a considerable height above the river, embracing grand and varied prospects, combining the rugged cliffs of the opposite bank, partially adorned by wood ; the broad quiet river, speckled with its coracles and salmon-fishers, > looking in the distance like walnut-shells set floating by fairies; and the grand precipitous rocks, through which the road is made, rising abruptly from the shadowed path, or fantastically grouped with rich wood and waving flowers, stretching towards the blue heaven above. But I would pray the reader to pause when he , arrives at the point immediately opposite the northern aspect of the old ruin, and contemplate for a moment t the beautiful doorway, which there presents itself, with its pediment surmounted by green branches and white elder-flowers, — to glance through the line of arches that spring along the transept, — and to watch the bright sunshine gleaming through the glorious marigold, and glittering amongst the bold projections and rich : tracery of its exquisite window. I must confess that I was disappointed at the first sight of Tintern Abbey. The straggling row of com- mon-place buildings that marshalled the road to it, and the low miserable cottages that surrounded it» served greatly to subdue the enthusiasm in which I had indulged on the way; but when I stood upon the ' green floor of the venerable ruins, and gazed upon this ^ almost perfect example of architectural beauty, I felt that I had come within the magic circle of enchant- TINTEBN ABBEY — ^WINDCLIPF, 153 ment, from which I had neither the power nor the wish to escape. Nor is it only the magnificence and grace of the ruined buildings which attract the eye on all sides and fill the mind ; but the memory is unlocked, the reading of ancient days is set forth in all its ample leaves^ and imagination supplies the august and glow- ing pictures that belong to the age of its glory, when the high altar blazed with light at the sacrifice of the mass, or when the full rich voices of the monks chanted the Breviary service, from the early matins and lauds to the evening vespers and complins, — when the bright summer sun flashed through its painted windows, and fell upon the tessellated pavement in a '' glorious path of rays,'' for the solemn procession of the holy fathers, or gleamed with mild lustre amongst the pointed arches, when the solitary brother, in penitence and prayer, told his Ave Maria before the image of the Blessed Virgin. I felt the devotional sentiment steal gently over me, and I stayed not to inquire whether sense or faith, whether spiritual perceptions or mere imagination, had most to do in csdling it forth : it was sufficient for me that it was present to my consciousness, transfusing the past, the present, and the future, into one mingled stream of rich, grateful feeling. " Shadee of past fame, fareweU ! the glooms ye oast 1 The melancholy pleasures ye have bred ! There are, who fibin would fly into the past. And where I, bat a weeping pilgrimj tread, Ab cowled monks hide for aye the aching head ! " About three miles from Tintern, a fanciful little habitation, called the " Moss Cottage,'' appears to the right of the road, built by the duke of Beaufort, for the 154 WINDCUFF. accommodation cf parties visiting Windcliff^ to the Bummit of whicli grand eminence^ several paths lead through the rocks and underwood. The most approved plan is to ascend by a somewhat circuitous, but easy route, nearer St. Arvan's. On gaining the open space, one of the most extensive and beautiful views that can be imagined bursts upon the eye, or rather, I should say, a vast group of views of distinct and opposite character here seem to blend and unite in one. At a depth of about eight hundred feet, the steep descent below presents in some, places single projecting rocks; in others, a green bushy precipice. In the valley, the eye follows for several miles the course of the Wye, which issues from a wooded glen on the left hand, curves round a green garden-like peninsula, rising into a hill studded with beautiful clumps of trees, then forces its foaming way to the right, along a huge wall of rock, nearly as high as the point where you stand, and at length, beyond Chepstow Castle, which looks like a ruined city, empties itself into the Bristol Channel, where ocean closes the dim and misty distance. On the other side of the river, immediately in front, the peaked tops of a long ridge of hills extend nearly the whole district which the eye commands. It is thickly clothed with wood, out of which a continuous wall of rock, festooned with ivy, picturesquely rears its head. Over this ridge (Llancaut Cliffs, or Bannagor Crags) you again discern water, — ^the Severn five miles broad, thronged with white sails, on cither side of which ai*e seen blue ridges of hills, full of fertility and cultivation. The grouping of the landscape is perfect. I know of no picture more beautiful. Inexhaustible in PiSBCsnsLD. 155 details^ of boundless extent^ and yet marked by sach grand and prominent features^ that confusion and monotony^ the usual defects of a very wide prospect^ are comidetely avoided. The descent from WindcliflP to the Moss Cottage is easily made by means of steps cut in the rock^ amid shrubs and wood of great variety and beauty^ and presents the landscape in an unceasing diversity of forms. Piercefield Park, the marvel of the last and the attrac- tion of the present generation, extends nearly from Windcliff to Chepstow, and is certainly a beautiful example of landscape-gardening ; but to a mind which has become familiarized with the grand and simple scenes of nature, a ramble through the three-mile walk of Piercefield Terrace is far less gratifying than the same distance would prove through the wild greenwood, or over the breezy hills. Maugre all this, we owe much to the taste which has adorned this place, and to the liberality which has thrown it open to the public for their gratification. The attractions of Piercefield arise from the peculiar features of nature, forming almost every element in pictorial composition, which are assembled on this spot, or which belong to its neighbourhood. The park itself is comparatively small, not extending over more than three hundred acres, in the centre of which is the mansion; but the varieties on its surface, and the manner in which it gently undulates on one side, and on the other descends precipitately into a deep vale, *— the thick majestic woods, which encompass some portions of it, and the graceful masses that adorn others, — ^the single trees that fling their arms on all 156 PIBBCSriSLD. sides in supreme beauty^ — the gentle slopes, the rising hills, the stem bald crags, the rolling river giving the sweet voice of its waters to the umbrage around, — ^the mingling of colours under the first tints of autumn, — the sublime, the terrific, and the beautiful, singularly, and as it were accidentally, combined, give to Fierce- field a charm, which makes it the Hafod or the Elan of Monmouthshire. The hand of taste has been here too, not in its crudities and patchwork, but in its enchanting disclosures of the natural beauties and sublime originals of the place, in its graceful combinations, and in its captivating allurements of shades and openings, and winning promises of fresh delights to the onward visitor. The kindly feeling of the proprietor is obvious in the provision he has made of walks and ascents for the most comprehensive views, of resting-places for the foot of the traveller, of grottos scooped from the rocks, and of flower-embroidered alcoves, where the wood's minstrelsy may be most enjoyed, and in the labour he has employed to afford engagement to the memory and the fancy, while the senses have been thus regaled, — and all this surrounded, as it is, by the wild and untameable in nature, by gibbous and craggy rocks, precipices, magnificent mountains, the boundless forest, and tracks of heath and moorland. The proprietor to whom Piercefield owes its improve- ment, and the public their enjoyment, was Mr.Valentine Morris. His history is short and melancholy. In the course of the American war he was appointed governor of the island of St. Vincent, where he expended a large sum from his own private fortune in its fortifications. Upon its fall, the minister of the day disavowed LLANCAUT CRAGS — CHEPSTOW. 157 his claim for compensation. His creditors became clamorous, and he was cast into the King's Bench prison, where he languished for twelve years. He was released from his confinement, broken in health and spirits, suffering most of all from the domestic calamity which his fallen fortunes had produced, in the insanity of his wife, and shortly after he died at the house of a relative in London. He was a generous and benevolent man, as the poor of his neighbourhood could well testify. On his departure for the West Indies, they came in troops to bid him a tearful ferewell, and the muf9ed bells of the neighbouring church rang a funeral knell as he left the home of his love, and the scenes which he had embellished both by his taste and his life. From Llancaut Crags, on the opposite bank, a view is gained little inferior to the one at Windcliff ; indeed, the difficulty would be to find a spot in this picture-like neighbourhood whence some grand or picturesque pro- spect could not be enjoyed; and numerous delightfully situated residences prove how well the surrounding beauties are appreciated. On approaching Chepstow, the main point of attrac- tion is its ancient castle, a grand ruin crowning the whole length of a projecting rock, near which a hand- some iron bridge spans the now busy river. According to Lambarde, the Saxons named this place Chepstow, '* which is,'' as the chronicler writes, '^ no more to say but a market, bycause it lay comodiouslye to bringe thinges unto, and vented theim abrode wheare nede was, at it yet dothe.'' Under the name of Estbrighoel or Striguil, the castle is mentioned in Domesday Book; and is said to have been built by William Fitsosbom^ 153 CHEPSTOW CASTLE. earl of Hereford^ killed in 1070, who erected it out of the ruins of the ancient Caerwent, or Venta SUurum. The remains show that the old castle was nearly all taken down, and rebuilt in the thirteenth century. The duke of Beaufort holds it by descent from the Herberts. Castles were built according to the form of the ground; that at Caerlaverock being a triangle ; and Chepstow is a parallelogram, standing on a high rock, and con- sists of successive courts flanked on the land side by an immense ditch and town walls, and on the other side by the Wye. The entrance is by a gateway with round towers : between these are machicolations. The ancient gates remain, and consist of planks covered with iron plates laid upon a strong lattice, and fitstened by iron bolts. Within one door is the original wicket, about three feet high, and only eighteen inches wide ; requiring no small care to enter its narrow aperture, and climb over its high step without personal detriment. Passing under the portcullis-arch, the first court is entered, in which the domestic offices were situated ; and a tower at the south-east extremity is pointed out as the one in which Henry Marten, one of the judges of Charles I., passed, for the most part of twenty years, a dreary imprisonment, and where he ended his life.*^ This tower was the keep or citadel. The exterior wall * Henry Morten was the son of Sir Henry Marten, a celebrated judge in the time of Jamea I. He ia deioribed ai a man of gre&t intoUigenoe and exqutaite wit, but of licentious manners. He is said to have died as he lived, "with the fierce spirit of a republican." Ho wrote his own epitaph in the form of an acrostic, which is placed over his grave, in tbe north transept of the church, containing sentiments better suited to a •oepticthan a Puritan preacher, as he at one time waib mid frm. Ml m. the I- Beodwiaa > He. Thi-HitlffVoiHl CHEPSTOW CASTLE, 159 is mucli more ancient than the one facing the court, and the interior appears to have contained commodious apartments^ with spacious fireplaces, &c. From this tower a line of communication, or ten*aced walk, runs inside the outer wall along the whole buildiug, ascend- ing by steps from tower to tower. In the old Norman keep this gallery used in like manner to run under arches round the whole inside. This being a thirteenth- century castle, where the defence consisted of numerous towers (it is said to have contained sixteen)^ the line of communication was altered accordingly. The most lofty and interesting portion of Chepstow Castle is now called the chapel; but in castles the chapel was not usually the most striking object ; and as this beautifiil remain has apartments above, there is every reason to think that the lower part was not a chapel, but the grand hall, especially as an oriel window, in the style of the thirteenth century, and remarkably rich in its architectural decorations, still exists to con- firm the supposition. A terrace and wall, on the very edge of the cliff, rendered this part impervious to mis- sile weapons. Within the hall a range of niches are seen, usual in Norman keeps, and called, by presump- tion, seats for the guard or attendants.* I next explored a damp and gloomy subterranean vault, with a groined roof and an aperture for the ad- mission of the few rays of light that struggle through * A prieatly legend wis gWen to the people, wUch inretted this obapel with the oharaoter of extraordinary aanctity. It was related to haye been erected by Longinni, a Jew, and father of the toldier who pierced the mde of Christ. For some offence he was condemned to seek the shores of Britain, and erect a religions edifice on the river Wye. i 160 CnEPSTOW CASTLE. the overhanging and entangled ivy and brushwood of the rock in which this dismal apartment is formed ; on peering through the openings the Wye is seen at a great depth below, rolling heavily along; and the head grows dizzy with gazing from the murky dungeon down the terrific precipice. If this were the prison, surely a brief sojourn in it ought to expiate even a weighty error. I looked at the ponderous rings in the rocky wall, and thought of the " Prisoner of Chillon,'* and then eagerly-bounded up the foot*wom stair into light and liberty — heartily thankful that the years were for ever gone by, when feudal tyranny could incarcerate its wretched victims in such cruel durance. This fortress seems to have been built by Roger de Bigod, about the same time as Tintem Abbey church. It underwent some partial alterations in the end of the fifteenth century, probably by William Herbert, earl of Pembroke, who was deeply engaged in the wars of York and Lancaster. The town was very strongly fortified, and the remains of its defences are still con- siderable. Leland, that veracious antiquary, thus de- scribes it in his time : — ** The towne of Chepstowe hath bene very stoutly waulled, as yet doth appere. The waulles began at the ende of the great bridge over Wye, and so came to the castle, the which yet standeth fayr and strong.'^ Several monastic and ecclesiastical remains may be found in the neighbourhood. The town occupies a pleasing situation, being built on a hill gradually ascending from the river, amid scenery of the grandest description, but contains few buildings worthy of notice except the castle. A cell of the foreign abbey of Cor- CHEPSTOW. 161 neille existed liere as early as the reign of Stephen. On the north side of the chapel of this priory are Koman hricks. The present parish church includes most of its remains^ and forms a curious specimen of Norman architecture, particularly the western entrance. The old gate is an interesting piece of antiquity, but much injured by time. The bridge over the Wye is substantial and elegant, consisting of five iron arches resting on stone piers. It is five hundred and thirty-two feet long; the centre arch is one hundred and ten feet, and the other two, on each side of it, seventy and fifty-four feet each in span. It has been remarked, that the tide rises higher here than in any other place in the kingdom — from fifty to sixty feet. The reason assigned is, that the rocks of Beachley and Aust, which project into the Severn im- mediately above the Wye, cause such an extraordinaiy swell that the stream is impelled up this river. At Chepstow I went on board a steam-vessel for Bristol, with the intention of taking the packet from thence to Tenby the following morning. Proceeding steadily down the Wye, it was observable that the fair and clear mountain-stream had changed to a broad and stately river. Picturesque cliffs flank her course on the left, displaying a curiously-varied stratification, and crowned with overhanging wood. On the right, the gradually-rising ground soon exhibited the remains of the ancient town wall, or, as it is now called, the Port Wall, fortified by numerous round towers, on an appa- rently artificial elevation. Gliding smoothly on, in the golden light of an sCutumn afternoon (for my wander-* ings had now extended from spring to the first month M i 1G2 CHBP8TOW. of that rich season of the year), I soon found the river widening rapidly, and recognising Aust cliffs, and the little ruined shrine of St. Tecla, on its island rock, I knew that the Wye here mingled her waves with those of her sister stream, the Severn. I might finish my Wye explorations very fitly in the words of Mr. Gray: — ''The very principal light and capital feature of my journey was the river Wye, which I descended in a boat for nearly forty miles, from Boss to Chepstow. Its banks are a succession of nameless beauties/' CHAPTER X. TKNBY CARMARTHEN BAY — LLANSTEPHAN CASTLE LAMPHEY PALACE — MANORBEER CASTLE OCEAN^ ETC. Old Ocean ! how I love tby roar ; it aeeina To xny attentive ear as though it sung Of ancient days, and had grown hoarse with age. The jargon of old Babel wanderers has been Beside thy waters. Thou hast caught the sound, And speak'st all languages. In tby soft calm voice, The whtsp'ring music from Idalian groves Comes richly fraught with perfumed melody. That earnest si^h, drawn from thy depths and caveSi Is vocal with the tale of wrecks, — as sad As the last breath of gasping, drowning men. Or stranded mariner, from some desert isle. Sending his eoul homeward. Thy stormy voice Gathers the shout of hosts and multitudes That erst have thronged thy shores. Thy rolling waves Are a deep trackless path to distant lands ; And east and west, and north and south, are joined By thee in fellowship, as one great family. The Old Babd. The county of Pembroke pushes boldly forward in the form of a broad rugged promontory, on its western and northern sides, into the wide world of waters, touching easterly the counties of Cardigan and Car- marthen. The reader who has followed me from the pictured valleys and wood-crowned hills of the beautiful Wye^ which the hand of man has so profusely deco- M 2 164 TENBY. ratedj ml\ find himself saddenly transported to a region of barrier rocks, standing like the Pillars of Hercules, M'ith their bases lashed for ages by the storm-driven waves of the ocean. At the south extremity of a small bay, offering an excellent roadstead for vessels, and situated some ten miles from the county town, stands the well-known watering-place of Tenby, " the boast of Pembrokeshire." Almost unrivalled for the beauty of its situation and the extent of its marine prospects, the town '^peninsu- lateth,'' as Leland says, upon a bold but irregular pile of cliffs, rising above the sea — Caldy Island breaking the violence of the waves from the Atlantic Ocean. The far-extending view from the Castle Hill, looking easterly, embracing the whole of Carmarthen Bay, is carried forward to the Ooskar Rock, and below it to what are termed the Norton Sands. Passing over nu- merous bays and promontories, the Monkstone Point next is seen ; and then, again receding, the coast forms the bay of Sandisfoot. The summit of Amroth Castle, the waters of Llaughame Bay, the mouth of the Towey, the pinnacles of Kidwelly Castle, and part of the town, arc within range of the eye ; and afar off the broad promontory of Gowerland, and the towering rock called the Wormshead, in the Bristol Channel, stretch away to the extreme point of vision. Scarcely less magnificent the prospect opens towards the south, exliibiting St. Catharine's Rock, on which are the ruins of an antiquated building; Caldy Island, and that of St. Catharine, with the Bristol Channel; and occasionally, on fine days, parts of the Somersetshire coast. Giltar Point terminates the prospect to the west. TENBY. 165 Although the architectural remains of the district are numerous^ and convey to the traveller some idea of their ancient extent^ but little is left entire of the old castle of Tenby; a single tower and some dilapidated walls being the only evidences of its former splendour. These ruins present a singular contrast to the neat pretty walks and seats formed on the surrounding rock for the accommodation of visitors, from which the ex- pansive sea is beheld to great advantage, studded with fishing-boats and ships. Here strangers and residents hasten to watch the arrival and departure of steam- boats and other vessels. The church stands on an elevated part, nearly in the centre of the town, and is an ancient structure, with modem additions and im- provements. The interior is rich in sepulchral sculp- ture, and other monumental records; amongst which is one in the north aisle to John Moore, of Moorhayes, Devon, who died for love : — " He that from home for love was hither brought, Ifl now brought home; thus Grod for him has wrought.*' A pilgrimage would doubtless be made to this tomb by all consumptive maidens, but for this droll circumstance, that he was the father of a large family — six sons and ten daughters, — ^which he had by his first wife, and he died here while in search of a second. The church has a tower and spire, esteemed the highest in Wales, which proves a useful landmark to the far-oflf mariner. From the hotel windows, when the weather is unpropitious, and the white-winged heralds of the storm hover in sights or utter their warning cry, the visitor can still 1G6 ST. CATnARINS's ISLAND. console himself with contemplating the wide expanse of waters^ now full of *' sound and fury/' raising their angry crests, and exhibiting the varying phases of the mighty ocean. Nearly south-west of the town rise those wild masses of rock forming the island of St. Catharine, and more distant those of St. Margaret and Caldy. In all wea- thers the effect to the eye, with the Norton Sands, bounded by their majestic cliffs, is as varied as it is picturesque; the sands on the south and west offer spacious and romantic walks close to the rocks, nearly as far as the grand promontory of Oiltar. Of the style of living at Tenby, during the summer, I can speak in just terms of eulogy ; but, as regards winter, the people of the neighbourhood, it is said, chiefly subsist upon codfish during the whole season. Even the fields are occasionally enriched with the same article, to render them more productive.* The women, iu men's hats and jackets, assist in agricultural labour ; and the country people understand the art of making good fires in their kitchens, which bum for a week together, with fuel that makes scarcely any smoke. Ever since my little trip from Holyhead, along the northern coast of Anglesea, to view its grand marine caverns — the work of a thousand storms — ^and the no less singular appearance of the South Stack Light- house,t on its little rock below the mountain of Caer Gybi, where I spent some pleasant hours, I had not * This place waa a principal town of the Flemish settlera, and once boanted of most productive fiahing-banka^ which are now either lost or ahifteiU t Sec " Roscoe's North Wales," p. 165. CARMARTHEN DAY. 167 ceased to watcli an occasion for the enjoyment of an- other cruise^ and this the fine expanse of Carmarthen Bay supplied to my heart's desire. Without loss of time I engaged a small yacht, and ¥rith a companion or two of my own mood, taking advantage of a gentle breeze, early one fine clear morning, we trimmed our sails and steered away for Llanstephan Castle, holding our course as near as convenient to the land, which enabled me to observe the different features of the coast, and then fetching a point or two to the south, we spread our canvas to the wind, and bore up right ahead for the old ruins. The weather was delightful, not a cloud dimmed ^'the blue serene,^' a delicious change to one long the deuizen of smoky cities; and I could not but exclaim — "This hoar is lovely, as the morning beam Dances o'er eastern rock, and hill, and stream; This hour is lovely, as the sun's pure light Bursts irom the sea upon the ravish'd sight." No wonder we are a nation of voyagers, fond of change and travel, and subduing all the elements with the necromancy of science to promote our objects. We are, indeed, the real conjurers who have dived deepest into the old black art of converting our baser metal into gold, and rendering earth and ocean alike tributary to the potent spell of industry and enterprise. There is, too, something like enchantment in sailing '' o'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea," no one will deny; and that it is very like conjuring, — ^to say nothing of the glory of naval sovereignty, the thrilling pleasure of bounding from shore to shore and from 1G8 CARMARTHEN BAY. clime to clime^ — in laying the products of all lands upon our own home-quays. "Oh, who COD tell, save be whoBe heart hath tried, And danced in triumph o*er the waters wide, The exulting sense^the pulse's maddenin^^ V^7» That thrills the wanderer of that trackless way 1" Yet let no one contemn the homely joys of a little inland trip, with its variety of picturesque and sublime objects, and the rude health and feeling of joyous hilarity which, in spite of oneself, it will produce. After making more than four hours' sail, we stood off opposite Ginst Point, between which and the coast near Llanishmael, those two noble rivers, the Taff and the Towey, roll their wedded streams into the broad blue bay. Directing our course next up the Towey, we had the Taff on the left, and were presently borne by the sheer strength of the tide within sight of the once- celebrated Castle of Llanstephan, finely situated on the brow of an elevated promontory. From its still bold dimensions, it must have been of commanding height, and breadth, and strength, and is supposed to have been erected in the year 1138. The chroniclers relate that it was besieged in 1145 by a large force of Nor- mans, English, and Flemings, and defended bravely by Meredith ap Gruffyd. The besiegers were more nume- rous than the garrison, but the ready skill of Meredith ba£9ed all their plans. An escalade was attempted, the ladders were placed, and the foemen filled every step to the summit, when the gallant commander, by the aid of some machines he had invented for the purpose, over- threw them all, and so distressed the enemy that they CASTLE OF LLAXSTEFHAN. 169 were compelled to make a hasty retreat, and finally to raise the siege. Standing upon its grass-grown and melancholy ruins, I beheld prospects spreading below me in all their primitive beauty and splendour ; fresh and gay as in the early days of that crumbling and shapeless mass, within whose stately halls sat knights and ladies, and from whose flowery lattices they gazed forth upon the same ever-varying, inconstant sea, — the blue arch of heaven, — and all that earth held of beau- tiful, in river, mountain, headland, and bay, — ^the very same that I now descried, stretching away far as the Worm^s Head; and on the other side, the arrowy bounding Towey, and portions of the district, with the same peculiar features, towards Carmarthen. The vil- lage of Llanstephan is pleasantly situated at the foot, and on the sides, of the beautiful hill, a little below the castle. Intending, upon my route towards Pembroke, to visit the fine old Castle of Manorbeer, and the interesting ruins of the episcopal Palace of Lamphey, I took the nearest track to the sea. I could thus indulge my native predilections, imbibed in boyhood upon the shores of the Mersey and the Dee, for coast scenery, and the variety of prospects afforded by the ocean. Proceeding about four miles to the village of Lidstip, which gives the name of Lidstip Haven to an adjoining bay, protected from the western blasts by a range of high land, I obtained a splendid panoramic view, em- bracing Giltar Point, Caldy Island, and the Bristol Channel, enlivened by vessels of all kinds passing up and down. It fully repaid me for the route I had taken, and presented an opportunity of examining the 170 MANOBDBBR CASTLE. dilFcrent strata of the rocks in the immense stone- quarries, which here give employment to the greater part of the neighbouring population. From hence a pleasant walk, -still affording picturesque views, brought me in about two miles to the dreary, and,'I am sorry to add, dirty village of Manorbeer. From the number of fragments, the '' di^ecta mem^ bra" of nobler edifices, strewn far around, the Manor- beer of other times would appear to have been much more extensive than at the present period. The ancient castle is seen beetling high over the sea, its massy walls remaining yet almost entire. It is situated, as described by Leland, '^ between two little hillcttcs,'' and is an extensive but irregular edifice, adapted for warlike times, and provided with apertures for the dis- charge of missile weapons, instead of windows, the light being admitted only from the inner court. In the old feudal style, the chief entrance was by a noble gateway, protected by a semicircular court with a large barbican, and strongly flanked with bastions. Its ponderous towers, and the extent of its site, still to be traced amidst a scene so wild and desolate, present a strange contrast to its by-gone days of power and splendour, and throw a savage, sombre air over the vicinity. Its size and position are truly grand ; from whatever spot it is viewed, the observer cannot fail to be struck with its stately magnitude and air of dignity .''^ * Dr Samuel Jobnson sayi, in reference to these Cambrian fortresses, " one of the castles in Wales would contain all he had seen in Scotland.** The ruins of Manorbeer give the most perfect idea of an old baronial cstabliHhinent. It docs not appear that it was ever the object of any hostile attack, and it censed to be inhabited before the feudal ago htul passed away, or any changes had been made in its original architecture. ,/'. f) MANOEBEEE CASVXB. 171 Here in the twelfth oentoiy to bom the great Iiistorian of the PrincipaHtT, Ginldos SQTester, coni- monly known by his patronTmic of CasmArensis, — the secretary, advuier, and trarelling compankn of Arch- bishop Baldwyn, — one of the most actire and intelli- gent ecclesiastics of his times; "a man/' as old lAm- barde says, ''wel learned, and as the tyme serred, eloquent/' He visited Jerusalem, took a sarrey of Ireland, and wrote descriptions m Penbroch, It is excellently well defended by turrets and bulwarks. On the right hand a rivulet of never* failing water flows through a valley, rendered sandy by the violence of the winds. * * * This country is well supplied with corn, sea-fish, and imported wines, and is tempered by a salubrious air. Demetia, there- fore, with its seven cantreds, is the most beautiful, as well as the most powerful district of Wales ; Penbroch, the finest province of Demetia; and the place I have just described, the most delightful part of Penbroch. It is evident, therefore, that Maenorpyrr is the paradise of all Wales.^^ The author may be pardoned for having thus extolled his native soil, his genial territory, with a profusion of praise and admiration. Fronting the south side, across a small dingle watered by the rivulet Giraldus refers to, which supplied the fishponds of the castle, is seen the church, upon an elevated slope, with its single tower. Under a plain canopy in the chancel is a tomb supporting the effigy of a crusader, clad in a mixture of ring and plate armour, such as was worn soon after the Conquest, having his shield charged with the arms of Barri, whose family formerly possessed the castle and its domain. From the castle there are varied and extensive pro- spects, comprising the elegant mansion of Stackpole, the grand promontory beyond, called St. Qovan's Head, MAXOHBEEA BAY — LAMPHET PALACE. 173 and the Bristol Channel. The mighty ocean rolls its resistless surges along Manorbeer Bay towards the main, and, breaking impetuously against the rocks below, mingles its sublime and eternal music with the wild seamew's cries, appealing to the eye and the imagina- tion with more than ordinary power. From this singularly wild and picturesque portion of the coast, I took my way through the villages of James- town and Hodgeston to the interesting ruins of Lam- phey, hardly more than three miles from Pembroke. The remains of this once magnificent palace are situated in meadows, and some parts, not yet dilapidated, have been appropriated to ornament the approach to a more recently erected mansion, close to the ancient edifice. It is mentioned, that to Bishop Oower may be ascribed its grandeur and extent, as that part with the arched parapet (found also in his other buildings — the Palace of St. David's and Castle of Swansea), particularly characterizes his style. It owes something also to his successors, Adam Hoton, and Vaughan, the founder of that elegant chapel in the cathedral of St. David which goes by his name. In this palace dwelt Bishop Rawlins, who attended Sir Rhys ap Thomas in his tournament at Carew Castle. The licentious Barlow was the last bishop that resided here, of whom it is said by one of his own relations, ''that he was the first Protestant bishop who, contrary to the canons of the apostles, violated his faith, assumed a wife, and being given to sensuality, drunkenness, and lasciviousness, broke his vows by contracting matrimony with a lady abbess.'' Old Fuller has preserved a curious epitaph on Agatha WcUsburn^ the lady abbess who became the wife of the 174 LAMPHEY PALACE. bishop^ found in one of the churches of Hampshire^ which he thus translates : — *' UarIow*8 wife, AgsthA, doth hero remain, Biffhop, then exile ; bichop then hgaan ; So long she lived, so well her children sped. She saw fire bishops her five daughters wed." Once an episcopal palace belonging to the see of St. David, and subsequently a seat where the unfor- tunate earl of Essex spent his youth, and which he is said to have left " the most finished gentleman of his time/' these magnificent ruins appear in bolder relief from their association with the stirring times of their early history. Had Lamphey Palace been erected on an elevated site^ the building would have appeared more majestic. The eastern window still exhibits the most elegant tracery; and luxuriant ivy now adds to the picturesque appearance of the crumbling fabric. A gloomy and melancholy silence pervades the whole scene; and ere long little will remain to show the out- lino of this extensive and costly pile. 'I CHAPTEU XI. PEMBROKE — 8TACKPOLE COURT ST. GOVAN's — CAREW CASTLE, ETC. And this was once the stately home Of pleasant festival ; Where gallant lords and ladies shone, And knights in glittering mail; The "Feast of Shells" here brought the throng. To revel and wassail. The pomp and splendour have no sway In this deserted scene, Yet still the vanished leaves a nay. To tell of what has been ; And now the spirit of decay Broods o*er the silent scene. The HiaHLAND Castle. Upon a bold rocky eminence that projects into the estuary of Milford Haven stand the frowning ruins of Pembroke Castle^ — the most extensive and magnificent^ perhaps^ as well as varied, of which the Principality can boast. Its grand imposing outline, with its nume- rous sides, bastions, and projections, incorporated, as they are, with precipitous and picturesque masses of rock, acquires bolder relief from the lofty site, and its skilful combination of old Norman architecture with the Gothic. The tower which overlooks the water, the entrance from the town, and the round tower, are all that remain in tolerable preservation. It was divided 176 PEMBROKE CASTLE. into an inner and outer ward, in the former of which was the keep with the state apartments, formerly occu- pied, it is thought, hj the countess of Richmond ; in the latter are the different offices for the use of the garrison. From this ward the town was entered by a gateway defended by a semicircular barbican, and a dry ditch cut out of the solid rock. Connected with this part of the fortress is the "chambre where King Henry VII. was bom,'* which old Leland describes as having ''a chymmeney'^ containing the arms and badges of that monarch. In the basement story of this suite was the door that opened into the staircase leading to "the marvellus vault cauUid the Hogan;" but it is now approached by a path carried along the verge of the castle rock. In Elizabeth's time this place is described as containing a copious spring of fine fresh water, but it is now choked up. This for- tress, the chroniclers relate, was built by Arnulph de Montgomery in the time of Henry II., and on the dis- grace of the Norman, passed into the hands of Gerald de Windsor, the king's lieutenant in those parts, on his marriage with Nest, sister of the reigning Welsh prince. The history of this lady forms an episode in the national annals. The report of her beauty and endowments inflamed the curiosity of the son of Cadwgan, prince of Powys, a youth of reckless courage and profligate manners. Under the pretext of a friendly visit, he was admitted into the castle, and became deeply enamoured of her. He returned home, but only to assemble a party of his "rake-hell companions," and on that same night secretly obtained entrance into the castle, and forcibly carried oflf this Helen of Wales. The PEMBROKE CASTLE. 177 seducer paid dearly for his violation of the marriage sanctities, and was slain a few years afterwards by an arrow from the enraged husband. The ruins are seen, perhaps, to greatest advantage when approaching the place by water from Pennar Mouth. Pembroke Castle was distinguished, at the period of the civil wars, by the gallant defence it made in favour of Charles, under the command of General Laughame and Colonel Poyer. Cromwell was at last sent with a large force to reduce it ; and though suffering at that time fi'om the gout, he carried on the siege with such vigour, cutting off the supply of water to the garrison, that he at last succeeded in taking possession of the place. Laugharne, Poyer, and Powell, with two other officers, surrendered to the mercy of the Parliament. The army and munitions of war were delivered up to Cromwell, and the town was preserved from plunder. In April, 1649, a council of war passed sentence of death against Powell and Laughame, as they had before done against Poyer; and Cromwell sent an order for them to draw lots to determine which of them should die. On two of these lots was written, " Life given by •God;'' the third was a blank. The prisoners, not willing to be the instruments of their own destiny, a child drew the lots, and the blank* one falling on Poyer, he was shot in Covent Garden, "dying very penitently." The town of Pembroke is advantageously situated on a branch of Milford Haven, which carries small vessels at high water up to the quay. Next to Carmarthen it is the most spacious and richest town in the western district of South Wales ; but has not increased latterly 178 PXMBROKE. in wealth or population, in consequence of numerous remoTals to the new government settlement at Pater. It possesses a free school, some exoeUent inns, and a court-house. It has given the title of earl to several &milies, and, lastly, to that of the Herberts, in whom it still remains. To the north, Pembroke Ib encompassed by a thick wall, flanked by numerous bastions, but on the south its remains are sQarcely visible. It formerly possessed three handsome gates, ''by est, west, and north,'' as old Leland quaintly describes it, '' of the wich the est gate is fairest and strongest, having a ftdrebut compasid tour not rofed, in the entering whereof in a portcolys ex iolido ferro!* The north gate still presents a tole- rably entire appearance. Pembroke possesses two churches, dedicated to St. Michael and St. Mary; but they are not remarkable, either in their architecture or sepulchral decorations. The latter contains a mural tablet to Francis Parry, who married the daughter of Walter Cuney, at whose house Cromwell remained while he was suJOTering with the gout, and directing the siege of the casde. He died mayor of Pembroke, and the eulogy, consisting of fifteen lines, is expressed in such an affected strain, as to be quite ludicrous. It begins as follows : — " Dan Phoebas moanung, Keptune's flowing tide Deluged our streets when our Masoenas dy'd." For the attractions of its castle alone, Pembroke is deserving of all commendation; and firom the many pleasant excursions it affords, by land and water, is becoming a favourite place of resort with summer ramblers from various parts. What in fine weather DOCKYARD AT PATER — PATER. 179 can surpass a visit to Stackpole Court, the seat of Earl Cawdor — to the bluff promontory of St. Govan's Head — to Bosherton Meer, and, along the iron-bound coast, to those singular rocks called the Stacks — ^to Carew Castle — to the Government Dockyard at Pater — or a cruise through Pennar Mouth to Milford, or up the stream to Laurenny or Haverfordwest ? And all these places are well worthy the attention of visitors. Amongst the interesting places in this district, none is so well calculated to attract the wanderer's attention, and excite his patriotic feelings, as the Government Dockyard for building or repairing ships, on the margin of the Haven, two miles from Pembroke. I could not help observing the admirable arrangements of this establishment ; and must not withhold my approbation of the orderly and efficient manner in which these extensive public works are conducted. This place is, as it were, one of the nurseries by which we maintain our national glory and importance. Here all is activity and bustle. On one side lay numerous blocks of oak of huge dimensions, intended to form our largest ships ; on another, anchors of immense size, which probably might be destined to become the hopes of thousands of mariners in the hour of peril ; on one hand, a stately ship ready to leave the stocks ; on the other, the imperfect skeleton of one in progress. The whole establishment occupies a space of sixty-five acres, inclosed by a lofty wall, and contains the residence of the commissioner, besides houses for several officers, and also a church. The village, called Pater, that has been springing up close to this noble work, has of late so far increased as N 2 180 PATES. to bid fair, at no great distance of time, to become a more important place tban its parent town. It potaenes many advantages as a place of trade, par- ticularly that of deep water at most periods of the tide* The mail from London now rons to Hobb's Point, instead of Milford; and the Post Office Packet for Waterford is brought up the Haven as far as the new village, in order to take in the bags. Here, too, is a splendid hotel, and a fine pier, both of recent construc- tion, built by Government. In my many wanderings through various lands, I have always found it advantageous to my purpose and amusement, to fix my head-quarters in some central place, or some district metropolis, and to diverge from thence in excursions, whether long or short, as might best suit my convenience. I have thus contrived to keep up the idea — and who does not love to cherish the idea ?^-of home. My home being now the crowded city, or the secluded hamlet — ^now the busy strand, or, not unfrequently, the solitary vessel in the wide ocean. According to this my practice, then, I called the hotel, in the long street of ''ancient Penbroch,^' my home during my brief sojourn in this district. It was on one of those fine, rich autumn days, which, -in the rural and well-wooded districts of Great Britain, make this the most delightful season of the year for a day's ramble, that I set off on an excursion to St. Govan's Head, and along the rocky coast which gives so bold and picturesque a character to the vicinity. Upon ascending the eminence outside of the town, I was delighted with the prospect opening around me, comprising Pembroke stretched at my feet, part of the 8TACKF0LE COURT. 181 anruffled waters of Milford Haven, with its banks of pasture, and corn-land, and rich red soapy fallows, and a bold sweeping expanse bounded only by the horizon. I passed forward by St. DanieVs Church, a singular and picturesque old edifice, with its steeple partly covered with ivy; and proceeding farther to the still higher ground of Windmill Hill, I beheld a view on all sides yet more beautiful and extensive, with the town of Milford fairly made out, and a portion of Pater, relieved by the range of dusky hills on the other side of the Haven. Having lingered for some time over this enchanting prospect, I pursued my way from this point through the wretched-looking village of Kingsfold, where the dirty hovels of the labourers form a painful contrast to the clean and neatly-thatched cottages of neighbouring England, and passed through a tolerably well-cultivated district to St. Petrox. The church, enveloped in a verdant, shade of spreading trees, and the noble park of Stackpole Court, form the most interesting objects of attention. It is the air of quietness and repose resting upon it, which gives to a village churchyard its soothing and attractive character. The house of prayer for the living, rising amidst the memorials of the dead scattered all around, naturally originates a train of serious thought and reflection, casting over the mind a purifying influence. To a wanderer like myself, this last peaceful resting-place is always an object of peculiar and affecting interest, and I cast a lingering look upon the grey tower of this little sanctuary, as I bent my steps toward Stackpole Court. I was gratified by the permission of the noble owner to pass through the 182 STACKPOLB COURT. ftpacious park belonging to this domain, by which I saved a distance of between two and three miles, and had the pleasure derived from contemplating the '' old hereditary trees/' with all those sylvan delights and solitudes, made vocal by the warbling of a thousand birds, the secret whispering of the leaves, slightly stirred by the soft breeze, and the deep shadows and recurring gleams of the wood*s recesses, celebrated with so much enthusiasm by the poet Cowley. It would be ungracious to pass by Stackpole Court without some description. The modern mansion, which is a superb building, stands upon the site of the old baronial residence belonging to this domain^ Sir Elidur de Stackpole is written in the records as the original possessor, and is believed to have joined the crusade to the Holy Land at the time when Baldwyu and Giraldus made their tour through the country. The estate passed through various hands till it came into the family of Lort, and afterwards into that of Lord Cawdor, on his marriage with the heiress of the former house. In the civil wars, the old castellated residence was garrisoned for the king, and such was the massiveness of its walls, that it is said " the par- liamentary ordnance did but little execution/' The present edifice of wrought limestone rises beautifully at the foot of a sloping hill, in the sight of a spacious lake, the favourite resort of almost every species of wild fowl, and looks over a wide-extended park, along which herds of deer scamper in all the gladness of their nature. Skirting hills and rich plantations belt the domain on various sides, and beyond is the bright and boundless ocean. " One should think," said Boswell, 8TACKP0LE COURT. 183 after looking over the grounds of Kedleston^ in com- pany with Dr. Johnson^ "that the proprietor of all this must be happy." " Nay, sir," the sage replied, " all this excludes but one evil — ^poverty." The carriage-road which passes through the park- gates commences at St. Petrox, and within a hundred yards from thence the broad expanse of the ocean almost suddenly breaks upon the view, here and there studded vrith white sails. From the same eminence a prospect is commanded over a considerable portion of the park. Every object around seemed invested with the calm, solemn peace of the dark majestic woods ;[ not a cloud shadowed "the deep serene." The sun shone clear in mid-heaven; the music of mjnriads of insects arose above the whispers of the gentle wind amongst the leaves; the rooks hovered in wild con- centric circles above my head, and the cattle in groups were seeking the coolness of the shade and stream. Nothing could surpass the variegated beauty of the foliage, and the rich contrast of colours between these ancient foresters, sacred from the woodman's touch, with their stems and branches partially exposed by the winds of autumn ; the silver-barked birch, that " lady of the woods," gracefully dipping her bending branches in the clear waters, the shining ash, the smooth beech, the rough elm, the knotted moss-grown oak, blending together their rich dying hues of the year's decline, threw an ineffable charm over the whole landscape. On my right, and a little farther onwards, was an almost perfect solitude of trees, still in full leaf, whose branches meeting above quite shut out the sun's rays, except through casual openings. To the left again was a deep 184 ST. GOVAN. dellj entirely covered with the hazel^ the aspen, and the mountain ash, while the wild rose, the stretching blackberry, and that green parasite the ivy, filled up the vacant spaces under the overhanging boughs ; so thick, indeed, were their intermingled leaves and branches, that a glimpse could scarcely be caught of the romantic stream which threads its way along the centre of this dell, till it reaches the sea, though its murmuring and rippling were continually breaking upon the ear. Here and there I perceived, scattered through the park^ several extensive sheets of water, the margins covered with underwood and rushes. The wanderer's track is not always, like the traveller*8 road, straight, measured, and macadamissed; but, in lieu of this, it is — what pleases him a thousand times more — unconstrained and free, stretching onwards wherever his purpose, or the ever-varying mood of his mind may lead. When I had bid adieu to the mag- nificence and beauty of Stackpole Court, I struck off across the fields, and pursued my solitary way to Bosh- erton. The fragrance of the furze, which here grows luxuriantly, and was still richly in flower, quite per- fumed the air; and fresh pictures of natural beauty and variety continually opened upon the eye as I passed on over the heathy moor. At length I reached the bluff promontory of St. Govan,* projecting his rocky head high above the sea ; the scenery all around being precipitous, rocky, and wild. A flight of rude limestone steps, which are said to have the mystic property of * The great dieplay of Bcenery is at Sir Gawaine*8 Chapel and Head. This TaHant knight baa been transformed by popular error into a ST. GOVAN. 185 confounding all attempts to count tliem^ leads to the ancient chapel. A little lower is a spring of dear bubbling water, encircled with brick-work, which is said to be miraculous in the cure of chronic and cutaneous diseases. Descending thence are some fragments of limestone, which, when struck with a stone, produce a sound like that of a bell. This, too, is a miracle, in this place of wonders, and is thus accounted for. A party of pirates happening to land on this spot, plun- dered the anchorite's chapel of its bell, and that the holy man might not be deprived of this help to his devotion, the sonorous property was communicated to the broken rocks it touched in the progress of its abduction. The fissure in the rocks, in which the little chapel is built, appears to have been produced by a violent convulsion of nature. This exposition, how- ever, is too natural, and there is, as may be supposed, appended to it a tradition that has more of marvel in it. It is said, that it opened at first from the solid rock to shelter a saint pursued by his pagan persecutors, and after inclosing him till the chase was over, opened again to let him out, and was never afterwards closed. In confirmation, a place may be seen bearing a faint im- pression of the form of the saint. The prospect from this place is one of the most extensive and sublime I have ever beheld. Seated on the dry mossy turf above the terrific chasm, I indulged in contemplating the surrounding wildness, and the changing lights which danced upon the ocean. Out of the beaten road of tourists, at the farthest end, indeed, of the county, the tract of St. Gk)van, extreme in its loneliness, and almost unvisited by man, produced feelings and sensations in 186 8T. OOVAN. unison with the extraordinary characteristics of the scene. The building is said to have been a hermitage, but it has more the appearance of a rude chapel than anything else. It would be quite a tempting retreat to a modem anchorite, had not the eternal law of change, in its whimsical caprices, made the friendless dweller in crowded cities not unfirequently the most solitary being on earth. From the inner cove of the bay, on the sides of which the chapel stands, the vision, at first bounded by rocks of a thousand irregular forms, is then carried, in distant perspective, over the wide expanse of the boundless sea; but^ in directing the eye along this iron-bound coast, vast caverns are discovered in the rocks, formed by the incessant action of the waves. In some instances, indeed, perforations have been made in the jutting rocks, through which, when the spirit of the western storm is raised, the ocean pours its rolling waters, and the wild winds howl and shriek in appalling frenzy. The day was gloriously fine; the clear blue waters shone bright and smooth as a magnificent mirror far below me ; the sun's rays painted the multiform aspect of the rocks in a thousand variegated hues, rich as the rainbow's tints. The seamews wheeled in airy circles ; now dipping in their rapid flight their grey wings in the spray^ now breasting the wave, as though the water was their only element. At every step^ as I pur* sued my way along the bleak and craggy heights, myriads of these creatures were disturbed from their dizzy resting-places on the ledges of the rocks, and with wild and plaintive cries swept along my solitary path. In a short time I came to that fearful fissure in the cliffs. huntsman's leap — BOSHERTON MEER. 187 called the Huntsman's Leap^ of whicli tradition relates, that two huntsmen, coming upon it in full career, plunged over at a single bound. A little beyond this is a singular place, called Bosh- erton Meer, formed by the perpetual force of the waves. It presents on the surface of the ground only a small aperture, which, like a winding funnel, gradually widens below until it spreads into an extensive vault open to the sea. In stormy weather, when the sea beats with violence against the rocks, the noise emitted from this aperture is awful, and occasionally large columns of spray are forced through it to an immense height. Small bays and creeks indented this undulating line of coast; and chasms and craggy rocks, inhabited by cor- morants, razorbills, and gulls, continually intersected my progress, until I reached the land opposite the two lofty insular rocks called the Stacks. The harsh and discordant notes of that singular bird the eligug, a species of auk, soon announced that I had intruded upon their favourite haunts, and disturbed '' their an- cient solitary reign.'' From time immemorial, this peculiar tribe has been the tenant of these lonely rocks. Its members are wayfarers from a distant land. They hold no communion with other tribes of the feathered race, and seldom settle upon any other part of the coast. Sailing over these stormy towers they look upon that narrow neck of land, where once stood the camp of the Scandinavian pirate, from whose little bay, apparently scooped out of the rock, he was accustomed to push off his adventurous bark on perilous enterprises.''^ Rising * The entrance to this camp waa by a winding aaoent up the doping rocks. The ramparts stretohed to the other side of the isthmus^ 188 CARBW CASTLB. in dondfl above my head, they almost darkened the au% uttering icreams of such peculiar discord, that I was glad to pursue my way, taking the path through Warren, Stem Bridge, and passing by the estate of Orielton, the seat of Sir John Owen. I was much delighted by the contrast which this fine fertile country presents to the bleak savage character of the coast scenes I had just left, and by the varied images of beauty and repose which were now spread around me. Having recovered from the fatigue of my former ramble, I took the advantage of a calm serene day to make my intended excursion to Carew Castle. Magnifi- cent in its ruins, the vast dimensions of this lordly mo- nument of heroic days cover part of a slight elevation of land on the most easterly arm of the haven of Milford. The noble apartments which surrounded a quadrangle, with an immense bastion at each comer, the grand gateway leading into a spacious court, and some mag- nificent windows, are still to be seen as the remains of this splendid structure. The castle is situated at a short distance from the village of Carew ; and the appearance of its vast roofless walls, still presenting a broad bulwark to the shocks of time, is at once solemn and sublime. Two immense trees, having their trunks within the fortress, send forth huge feelers, which seem to dimb with redoubled strength amid the spreading devastations of ages — crowning the topmost points — disguising the yawning gaps, made in the struggle of years, and throwing where the precipitous cliiFs furnished a sufficient defence. In this place is a fearful aperture,— the Cauldron,~which is connected with the sea at the bottom by two natural arches in the rocks. CAREW CASTLE. 189 freshness and beauty around decay. The north view of this edifice^ which the pencil and the graver have so graphically represented, conveys, perhaps, the best idea of its original grandeur and extent ; the walls on the south having been destroyed by that great leveller of strongholds, Oliver Cromwell. A few of the apartments are yet in a great measure entire; among these is the great banqueting-hall, of regal capaciousness, in earlier days the seat of feudal pomp and magnificent hospitality. Three ancient coats of arms still decorate the entrance. The splendid state- room, too, of still greater dimensions, in which there are are yet remains of elegant marble cornices, and fireplaces with Corinthian columns, rich in device and exquisite in workmanship, is now tenanted by birds of prey. Silence reigns in these halls ; not that of repose, but of utter desolation and irremediable ruin — ^a silence deep and imbroken, save from the footfall of the solitary traveller. Carew Castle — ^formerly the residence of a Welsh prince and a long line of regal and lordly lineage, also part of the portion of the beautiful Nest on her mar- riage with Gerald de Windsor — ^in its high and palmy days, transcended most of its feudal contemporaries; its courts and halls have been thronged with gallant knights and their retainers, and made vocal with the minstrelsy of that heroic age ; its tapestried rooms have entertained the fairest dames of Cambria, in those days of love and chivalry, and have echoed to the chanson amoureux of the wayward troubadour; and many a palmer has held his audience in breathless wonder, as he told the marvellous tales of his weary wanderings in i 190 CAREW CASTLE. foreign lands. Iligli and featal days has Carew Castle seen, when royal visitors, in long succession, were en* tertained within its walls. Various, indeed, has been the fate of this stronghold of feudal power. Carew Castle has borne the stem brunt of ruthless war — ^it has suffered many a protracted siege — ^it has heard the lament of many a solitary prisoner in its donjon, and witnessed many a secret or open deed of blood. But gallant knights, and &ir dames, and merry minstrels, and mysterious pilgrims, have all vanished, like the visions in Banquo's glass, and lone and grass-grown courts and crumbling walls, and scattered fragments, with the scroll of the veritable chronicler, alone remain to tell that such things were. This structure appears to be of different ages. Ac* cording to Leland, it was remodelled and enlarged by Sir Rhys ap Thomas. On the south side it opened upon a handsome and extensive deer-park. In part of this ground the same knight held a special tournament, with other warlike games and pastimes, in honour of St. George, for the entertainment of Henry Y II., when on his route to Bosworth field, to which came men of ''prime ranke'' from all parts. ''This festivall and time of jollitie continued the space of five dayes,'' as the historian relates, and " tentes and pavillions were pitched in the parke, neere to the castle,'^ for the spec- tators of these " rare solemnities, wheare they quartered all the time, everie man according to his qualities.^' Near the entrance to the lawn, in front of the castle, just on the road-side leading to Carew church and village, stands one of the early crosses, in the centre of which is an elaborate inscription that cannot now be deciphered. CHAPTER XII. MILFORD HAVEN — MILFOBD — HAVERFORDWEST — F18H0UARD CARDIGAN. . Wave after waTe, If rach they might be called, dashed as in sport, Xot anger, with the pebbles on the beach. Making wild music, and fiff westward caught The sonbeam ; where, alone and as entranced. Counting the hoars, the fisher in his skiff Lay with his circular and dotted' line On the bright waters.— RooBBS. The next morning after returning firom Carew to Pembroke, I hired a boat firom the latter place, intend- ing, in company with a fiiend, to cruise about the Haven during the day, and to take up my quarters at Milford in the evening. Upon clearing a little way off Pembroke, the waters of what may be called the southern arm of Milford Haven became enlargedj stretching in parts a mile across, and having the appearance of an extensive lake encircled by rising ground — the outlet of this great body of. water, at the straits called Pennar Mouth, not being more than two hundred yards broad. Here the tide of course runs with great rapidity eitehr up or down ; and boats cannot readily work against the power of the stream. Leaving behind us the Pennar heights, and entering 192 MILFOED HAVEN. a wider expanse of water^ I beheld the far-famed Milford Haven, with its boundaries endlessly varied, and alive with vessels of various size and character in every attitude, interspersed with fishing-boats and skiffs moving about in all directions. Although there is a dreary bleakness about the hills surrounding the Haven, yet a scene more lovely and striking can hardly be imagined. In some parts the banks are pleasingly diversified, particularly towards Laurenny, where the scenery is richly wooded, and along the foot of the river extending to Slebech on the east and Bolston on the west. This noble sheet of water is about twelve miles long, varying from two to three in breadth, and is sufficiently capacious to hold at anchor all the navy of Great Britain. The town of Milford is agreeably situated on a point of high land with a gentle slope towards the water, from which it has a very imposing effect. Some twenty or thirty years ago it bid fair to become one of our principal marts of commerce — it grew important and full of business, and of wealth too ; but the turn of the tide could not be more rapid than its decline from its former prosperity. There now appears to be a stagnation of every thing like trade, which is chiefly attributable to the removal of the Government Dockyard, together with many hundred men, higher up the Haven. With it, the old commerce seems also to have taken its departure for ever ; for inquiringly as I looked about me, I could not catch the sight of a single trader belonging to the place. To complete its desertion, the postmaster- general has ordered the steam- packet for Waterford MILFOBD. 193 to be brought up the stream as far as Pater; so that the mail coach now drives to Hobb's Point instead of Milford, saving thereby a distance of about five miles. "A Visitor*' has a strange sound to the Milford people ; he is lopked upon as a foreigner^ whose now- ^ and-then appearance serves to keep alive public curi- osity; this is particularly the case with the innkeeper, who holds the hotels I understood, without paying any rent, solely to keep it from falling into decay. Poor man ! Nothing can exceed the disconsolate air of his establishment ; and his only gratifying reflection is in a retrospect of former times, and the mournful conso- lation that "it was not always so." That which old Lambarde wrote of Milford some centuries ago, might now pass current for a description of its present state. '^ A great haven in Wales,'' says he, " whereof I finde no other notable thinge, but that King Henry VII. aided by his friendes for the recoverie of hys righte, landed here, what time he came to fighte with Richard the Thyrde, usurper of the crowne, in which attempt he had prosperous success.** The only stirring event that marked my visit to Milford, was the destruction by fire of a large foreign ship, which had put in a short time previously for some repairs ; and it was certainly a glorious sight, however much to be deplored. She burst into flames at mid- night, and was consumed to the water's edge. I was aroused in the dead of night, when all around was wrapt in darkness; the sudden, terrific contrast was, indeed, grand and appalling. To behold the sea illumined with the blaze — the rolling waves resembling masses of moving fire, red as a lake of blood — the o 194 HAVERFORDWEST. crashing of the masts as they fell one by one — ^with the eagerness of the whole place to lend assistance, or their gathering in groups to gaze upon the magnificent spectacle, was awfully picturesque, and as interesting as it was terrible. From Milford I forthwith bent my coarse towards Haverfordwest, Fishguard, and Cardigan. On reaching the summit of the hill near Stainton,* the retrospect is exceedingly agreeable, comprising the broad part of the noble harbour of Milford, and the opposite promontories of Angle and St. Ann's Head. About two miles to the right of the road is Ros Market, a small village lying on the edge of a cheerful vale, where once stood the mansion of Sir Richard Walter, whose daughter was the mistress of Charles II. and the mother of the unfortunate duke of Monmouth. In this place was bom Dr. Zachary Williams, the father of the blind lady for so many years the com- panion of the celebrated Dr. Johnson. Pressing on- ward by the village of Johnston, formerly the seat of Lord Kensington, over Pope Hill, and passing Harold- stone, St. IsmaePs, where once was the cell of a saint of that name, I crossed Mawdlen's Bridge, and soon found myself within the town of Haverfordwest. This place is one of the largest and most prosperous towns in Pembrokeshire. It is favourably situated for * Adam de Staintou was the first Roman or Flemish lord of this place, and, it is believed, founded the church. The steeple, in the civil wars, was garrisoned by twenty musketeers, and preserved as a place of observation. Sir William James, who was the son of a miller in the neighbourhood, and who afterwards rose to the rank of com- modore in the navy, and governor of Qreenwlch Hospital, received his education at the school of this place. PICTON CASTLE. 195 trade on the river Cleddy, which communicates with the sea at Milford Haven ; but in itself it is uninter- esting^ both from its narrow zigzag streetis and the dull inanimate appearance of its inhabitants. It has^ however^ a respectable air at a distance^ and, perhaps, the best view of it is from the road leading to Fish- guard. It was once the capital of the Flemish colony, settled in the district of Boos, which became from that circumstance the cradle of the woollen manu- factory of England. "Theise Flemynges,*' as old Lambarde writes, " weare not welcome to the Welsh- men; but for all that they pyked out a lyvinge amongst them, and weare, as it should seme, the first that exercised the misterie of drapinge within that quarter.'^ The remains of the old castle, which was anciently a formidable fortress, built in the reign of Stephen, have been converted into the county gaol. On the outside of the town may be seen what yet remains of the- Priory of Black Canons, once a building of considerable extent. From this point, if the traveller be desirous of a pleasant walk of about four miles, and should have the industry to take it, he may find himself seated in the park belonging to Ficton Castle; and, on casting his eye over the beautiful intermixture of umbrageous verdure, green and level lawns, and fertile fields, which compose the surrounding scenery, he will not regret the labour. The castle has many associations which render it an object of great interest. It is connected with the lawless times of William II., when the arbitrary will of the sovereign constituted the authority, and military power and violence the means, of forcible o 2 196 8LEBECH. and uDJost possession. Its mixed architecture bears the traces of its transition from the almost impregnable strength of a ruthless age, to the elegant and con- Tenient domestic arrangements of more secure and peaceful days. It is built in the centre of the domain, and commands a view of the confluence of two fine streams, which roll their dear bright waters into the Haven. There is one circumstance which is peculiar to this edifice, especially when it is contrasted with the changes and desolation of most of the great buildings of this eventful country, which I shaU give in the words of Mr. Fenton, who speaks of it as ''a castle never forfeited, never deserted, never vacant, that never knew a melancholy blank in its want of a master; which had always the good fortune to be inhabited by lords of its own, men eminent in their day as warriors, as statesmen, and as Christians; from whose walls hospitality was never exiled, and whose governors might be said to have been hereditary. A castle in the midst of possessions and forests coeval with itself, and proudly looking over a spacious domain to an inland sea, bounding its property and its prospects beyond them, for such is Kcton Castle.'' I left the park by the richly- wooded path leading to Slebech, where once stood a commandery, belonging to the Knights Hospitallers of St. John of Jerusalem. The church of this place, which is, perhaps, coexistent with the institution, contains some monuments and sculptured effigies which will detain the curious anti- quary. The present mansion of Slebech is an elegant edifice, built on the site of the old commandery, and looks upon the beautiful river as did the fortress of the R0BE8T0N WATHEN. 197 knights. I left Slebech with regret ; for its historical Hssociations^ woodland beauties^ and autumn loveliness, had taken possession of my mind and heart; and having regained the high road, I arrived in the after- noon at the village of Bobeston Wathen, in the neat inn of which place, as the rain had begun to fall in torrents, I determined on taking up my quarters during the night. For a road- side hostelrie I found in it more appliances of comfort than I had expected, and mine host was active in his civilities. But it had other and more intellectual claims upon my notice ; for in travel- ling, whether far or near, I quite agree with one of the most delightful writers of our age,* that " we multiply events, and that innocently. We set out, as it were, on our adventures ; and many are those that occur to us, morning, noon, and night. The day we come to a place which we have long heard and read of, is an era in our lives ; and from that moment the very name calls up a picture.^' And so it was with me. I met in '^ the inn's best room'' an agreeable and intellectual companion— one whose profession was connected with all that is refined and liberal. He was a painter. He had followed the same wild coast-path as myself. He had seen the winged watchers on the Stacks, and stood on the bold jutting promontory of St. Govan, looking out upon that broad ocean, whose ever-rolling waves fitly suggest the idea of eternity. He had, like me, struck off from the stormy scenes of savage nature, with her stem rocks and foaming billows, to luxuriate in her peaceful smiles, as she hushed and cradled the winds in the rich glens and valleys of this picturesque * Samuel Rogers. 193 LLEWHADEN. county. We compared our pictures, not our graphic or caligraphic ones^ but those original paintings traced on the clear fluid of the vision, and then transferred in all their richness to the memory, as their receding lines vanished before the advancing forms of another and yet another, still more sublime and lovely than the first. It was but an instantaneous mental act to sum- mon from their secret storehouse picture after picture, and to expatiate again and again upon their surpassing beauties and sublimities; revelling in this interchange of thought and fancy, with emotions as fresh and rich as those with which they were first seen. This was an evening in my changeful life that I shall long remember. Early the following morning I "parted from my pleasant friend, never, perhaps, to see him again, and bent my way across the country to Fishguard. On gaining an eminence at a short distance, I rested to watch the sun breaking in all his splendour over the woody ridge of old Llewhaden; his first rays resting on the hoary ruins of its castle."^ Bright and glowing were his beams as they played, almost in mockery, upon this ancient heritage of the mitred lords of St. David's. The ivy had wreathed itself in uncontrolled luxuriance round the solitary tower that remains of this once massy pile, flaunting with the air of undis- puted possession, and covering by its thick and spreading leaves the destructive progress of ages ; " AU green and wildly fresh without^ but grey and worn beneath." * This castle constitutes the caput baronice, by virtue of which the bishop of St. David*8 sits in Parliament It was built by Bishop Beoke, TAL Y BONT — PISHOUARD. 199 Below it lay the fine valley of Tal y Bont, with its mansion^ through which the river Cleddau^ rapid, deep, and clear, pursues its onward course to meet the majes- tic tide of Milford. Nothing could exceed the lovely composition of this scene, the venerable remains of the castellated palace, — ^the wood-crowned steep, clothed in the rich and varied hues of autumn, — ^the narrow green vale with its little church, — ^the bridge stretching its architectural proportions across the playful waters, all harmonized and mellowed by situation and distance, and animated with the exhilarating influences of the fresh morning breeze. Passing next through Clarbeston' and Spittal, I came to the high road towards Fishguard, near Leweston mountain; but the remainder of the route was tame and uninteresting. It was quite a contrast to the valley scene of Tal y Bont. Scarcely a wood, a hill, or a river presented itself to relieve the dull monotony; and in one part I went miles together almost without passing a single habitation. The town of Fishguard is chiefly built upon a steep rock on the northern part of Pembrokeshire, which is washed by the waters of St. George's Channel. It possesses an extensive bay and harbour, sweeping for three miles in form of a crescent, having the bold promontory of Dinas on the north-east, and the huge wedged-shaped headland of Penanglfts on the north- west. From its depth of water, a pier might readily be formed which would afford shelter for vessels enlarged and ornamented by Bishops Hoton and Vanghan, and dis- mantled by Bishop Barlow, and its materials sold by that avaricious "^ prelate. 200 FISHGUAED — GOODWICK DEACH. passing up and down the Channel, in the frequent storms peculiar to this coast. Although the town wears a pleasing and rather interesting aspect from the beach, yet it possesses few well-built houses ; which, perhaps, explains the reason why Fishguard is not resorted to for sea-bathing. Prom the number of people I met of very advanced age, I should judge the air to be very salubrious ; and in this respect I believe it resembles most places situated on an eminence above the sea. Notwith- standing the want of &shionable recommendation, there is a constant succession of objects calculated to interest the visitor, especially in the vessels passing along the Channel, and the number of fishing-boats and other small craft entering and leaving the bay. Taking advantage of a fine afternoon, I set out upon a walk of some four miles, through the village of Llanwnda to Gbodwick Beach, where, at a place called Aber-y-felin, a descent was made by the French under General Tate, on the 20th February, 1797. The singular clearness and serenity of the day had tempted the good people of Fishguard to the beach, when three large vessels were discovered standing in from the Channel, and nearing the rocky coast of Llanwnda, which by the inhabitants at first were taken for Liver- pool merchantmen becalmed, and coming to an anchor to wait the return of the tide or a brisker gale ; but a most serious alarm was excited, when boats were seen putting off full of men, in such rapid succession as to leave no doubt of their being an enemy, which, late in the evening, was confirmed by their actually having begun to disembark^ a service that was not completed PATH TO NEWPORT. 201 fill midnight. The inhabitants more immediately within reachj for the most part deserted their houses^ and took refiige in the rocks and thick furze. The town of Fishguard^ and its vicinity, though a little farther off, caught the general panic ; and the inhabi- tants effected the removal of their wives, children, and most valuable articles for greater security into the interior. The French, after the labour of landing their am- munition, abandoned themselves to- plunder the neigh- bouring dwellings and indulged in every kind of brutal excess, till they became so intoxicated as to be utterly insubordinate, and incapable of control by their officers. In the mean time the tocsin was sounded; the troops in the immediate neighbourhood were assembled, and by the morning light crowds of Welsh women in their red cloaks, with their usual curiosity, crowned the siurrounding heights. Tate, seeing the state of his own troops, and taking the red cloaks for a gallant army ready to pounce upon him, sent forward a flag of truce, and agreed to an unconditional surrender. Wanderer as I am along the highways and by-ways of many lands, and though my track is often as way- ward as my mood may be, albeit there is still some method in my wanderings, which the gentle reader will not fail to discover, if he be but careful to follow assiduously upon my steps. In this way it was that I took the path coastwise in the direction of Newport, placing before me, as the ultimate object of my present excursion, Cardigan, and the interesting scenes upon the lower part of that fine river, the Teivy, — gathering 202 PATH TO NEWPORT. up, by the way, the rich associations of by-gone days, which almost cluster upon these green spots of early romance* Has the traveller ever found himself alone on some unfrequented path, amidst the everlasting hiUs and bold gigantic forms of primeval nature, shaped and fashioned, it may be, in some sense, by the slow wear of almost unnumbered ages, — surrounded at the same instant^ by the memorials of time, decaying and ruined in its lapses, though exhibiting in their massy remains a purpose of perpetuity, as if to emulate her enduring power? — and has he, alsOj in connection with such scenes, unfettered his imagination, and directed it to accompany the march of events that have been traced by the pen of some faithful chronicler, with which he has enriched his memory? Then has the traveller known something of the strange, fitful^ melancholy^ and richly sensitive emotions of the Wanderer as he trod the path he is now describing. On my right rose the huge mountain range of the Perselly, with the Vrenny Vawr, stretching to the east, as its extreme outpost, looking inland, and far over the neighbouring counties of Carmarthen and Cardigan; while Cam Englyn, like a giant^ on its western point, frowns from his rocky summit upon the open sea, having within his range the bold promontory of Dinas Head, and the fine bays of Newport and Fishguard, with the rich valleys of Nevem and the Gwajm. Between these distant mountains, in a reced- ing line, and towering to a still greater height, stands another stupendous ridge, like a broad battalion, con- necting its van and rear guard, over which human BAY OF FISHGUARD. 203 industry has constructed a road^ that opens a direct communication from Cardigan to the port of Milford. As I stood on the high land of the coast^ the scene was full hefore me^ invested with all the interest belonging to its real facts and marvels. Centuries have passed away since the first lord of Cemaes^ a Norman adventurer^ anchored in the clear calm bay of Fishguard^ then a little fishing village, known by the name of Abergwayn, and afterwards won by his good sword the first independent territory from the ancient princes of Wales. The little height of Cronllwyn, on the western side of the great Perselly range, marks the insulated spot where the daring invader in defiance unfurled his standard. His onward course was the mountain pass, disputed with fearful obstinacy by the men of Morvill ; but victory was with the Norman; he crossed the highest ridge with his long line of martial followers, and on a heathy plain, — "the upland of the aimless bow,'^ — at the foot of the pass of Bwlchgwynt, the terrified inhabitants, dismayed by the number and force of his military array, laid down their arms, unstrung their bows, and submitted to him as a con- queror. Not far distant stood the Castle of Newport, now desolate in its ruins, which was built by the Norman, and became the chief baronial residence of the first Lord Marcher. Its deep moat, its grand gateway, its fallen towers, and its ample remains, attest the former strength of the place, and the architecture of the age in which it reared its proud head. Behind it rises boldly the mountain of Carn Englyn, while before it spreads the beautiful bay, flanked by the headlands of 204 CARDIGAN CASTLK. Dinas and Ceibwr. Newport^ with its little port at the mouth of the Nevern, is now a straggling town, meanly built. It waa " auncyently termed Abernever/' as old Ldand says, '' and to the custodie whereof William the Conquerowr deputed one Marten of Tyron/' It now presents a painful contrast to its former power and importance. This place is little deserving of remark, except for the extraordinary cromlech of Pentre Evan, and the great number of Druidical remains that enrich its neighbourhood. I pursued my way to Cardigan, the capital of the county, which stands on the northern bank of the Teivy, at the edge of a province called, in early times, the Red Valley. One of the finest rivers in the Princi- pality, rising in the summit of the mountainous region to the north-east, the Teivy, flows with almost unequalled grandeur into the capacious bay. Over the river is an ancient stone bridge of seven arches, and at one end a building in which, it is reported, Giraldus preached the crusade. Cardigan Castle, built in the reign of Henry II., was of considerable size and strength. Few fortresses have undergone greater vicissitudes than this. Raised in a lawless age, it has passed into the possession of successive masters, as fraud or violence gave to each- the superiority. Its walls have been by turns manned and assailed by Normans, English, and Welsh; and the bow, the javelin, the battle-axe, and the cannon, have each done the work of destruction, both in its attack and defence. The war-cry of many nations has been raised from its lofty towers ; and the peaceful stream of the Teivy, that washed its massy walls in the day of its strength, and was often stained with the blood of hostile comba- \ CARDIGAN. 205 tants^ now rolls its silent tide, in an undisturbed current, by its ruins. Nor has this celebrated fortress been the scene of contest and violence alone. It has had its high and solemn days of festivity and regal magnificence, and the splendid entertainment of Cadwgan ranks amongst the most distinguished of that early age of feudal hospitality, of minstrelsy and song. Its power and existence, however, terminated in the civil wars, at which time it was held in the name of the king, but yielded at last, like many others, to the bravery and perseverance of the Parliamentary forces under General Langhome.* Fixing Cardigan as my head-quarters for a few days, I had some pleasant opportunities of making aquatic excursions upon the beautiful river Teivy, sailing up or down as the scenery invited, or my fancy might lead me; and occasionally leaving my little bark on the stream, and rambling, in all the ecstasy of invigorated spirits, along its sinuous and ever- varied banks. This is an unfrequented district by the ordinary tourist, because apparently a little divei^ng from the usual * This castle derives a more modem celebrity from havlog been the residence of Mrs. Catherine Phillips, a poet of Jeremy Taylor's days, and the lady for whom, under the fanciful name of Orinda, that excellent man long miuntained a friendship. She b supposed by Bishop Heber to have been the author of a whimsical treatise on " Artificial Handsomeness," erroneously attributed to the divine ; which is nothing more or less than a ** formal defence of painting the lace/' and anointing the brows with ** ceruse and antimony." To this lady Taylor addressed his " Discourse on Friendship/' — and for which, in return, she styles him, in one of her poems, the " noble Palnmon." This lady was the regular blue-stocking of the day, and was celebrated by all the wits of her age. Ck>wley wrote an elegy on her death, which, like most of the set poems of that time, is full of odd conceits and far-fetched allosions. 206 CARDIGAN. tracks but to me a more inviting one from that circum- stance. The Teivjr, which is the barrier river between the counties of Pembroke and Cardigan, presents^ at every turn in its devious course, the peculiar beauties of both ; and is, as Oiraldus says, '' stoared withe sal- mon and otter above al the ryvers in Wales.'' At one time it winds its silent way between the hills, filling the intervening space with its clear deep waters, — except, indeed, where sometimes a narrow path is saved, seemingly to entice the foot of the delighted passenger, — its high and sloping banks covered with trees of the richest verdure, now gracefully dipping their pendent branches in the stream, or bristling on the summit in the stately forms of the fir and pine, — and then again, as if rejoicing at its escape from such seclusion; sending its laughing tide through many a richly-wooded and romantic dale, in full career to the main. Unmooring my boat at Cardigan, I pulled into the current of the stream^ and soon rsached that part where the river becomes contracted, gliding amongst rocky eminences, which rise on either side, occasionally broken into broad and picturesque masses, and as often relieved and insulated by intervening quarries and open- ings. The passage of the river discloses a continued variety of objects : not a few of the reaches, which its perpetual windings afiTord, are eminently beautiful. In many parts the course of the stream fades from the eye, and the little vessel glides gently forward as on the bosom of a lake, while its beauty ofiers a combination of rock and foliage, of quarry, level green, and many- coloured mosses, in constant and gratifying succession, throwing a singular air of loveliness and repose over the whole scene. CHAPTER XIII. KILGARRAN — CARMARTHEN — VALE OF THE TOWEY — LLANDILO — KIDWELLY. " If thon art worn and bard beset With sorrows that thou wouldst forget — If thou wouldst read a lesson that will keep Thy heart from fainting, and thy soul from sleep. Go to the woods and hills! — no tears Dim the sweet look that Nature wears." At a distance of five miles from Cardigan, imme- diately following a graceful bend of the river, the noble Castle of Kilgarran bursts suddenly on the view. It was evening when I first saw this stupendous pile of interesting ruins. The moon shone with unequalled beauty and clearness. My bark lay silently upon the tranquil stream, under the shadow of two projecting capes, on one of which, rising perpendicularly from the bed of the river, the castle once stood in commanding majesty ; but now in solitude, sadness, and desolation. As I gazed upon it, my mind ran over the stirring events associated with its history, and recalled its localities, with which from description I had become familiar. There were the frowning bastions and curtain walls, built on a line with the foundation-rock, seeming to grow from their base, as if to defy with it the ravages i 208 KILOARRAN. of time and the enemy. On the east, deep ravines, fretted by the mountain torrents in their headlong course to the Teivy, had insulated it from the surround- ing high land. On the west, lay the winding path which connected the peaceful village of Kilgarran with the castle, and its five ample entrances. Within, ward after ward, of various extents, involving the keep and nil the state apartments, displayed the massy strength and magnificent dimensions of this once-famous for- tress. Its history marks the insecurity and vicissitudes of a state of society in which right is made to yield to the force of arbitrary power. English, Welsh, Norman, and Flemish masters, had successively shared in its pos- session ; and warriors, of all these tribes, poured from its open gates, on expeditions of war and conquest ; or had presented their serried and devoted lines in its pro- tracted and obstinate defence. All was now hushed. These busy and tumultuous generations slept with their fathers, and left this scene to be contemplated by a solitary traveller, like myself, under the influence of feelings and reflections such as these sad memorials were peculiarly fitted to inspire. I would say of Kil- garran Castle, to the reader, as the northern Magician has sung of the celebrated abbey in his native land, in these lines : — *' If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright. Go visit it by the pale moonlight*'* Adjoining the little village of Kilgarran was the resi- * It is said that the great painter Wilson has introdaced the fine eminence on which Kilgarran stands, into his picture of Niobe, and the peculiar beauties of this spot into several of his masterly productions. 1^ KTLGARRAN CASTLE — KENARTH. 2C9 dence of the learned Dr. TJiomas Phayer, the translator of Virgil's j3Eneid, " a man/' as the antiquary George Owen says, '* honoured for his learninge^ commended for his govemmente^ and beloved for his pleasante natural conceiptes." The scene of Warton's poem of King Arthur's Grave is laid in the Castle of Kilgarran^ where it is supposed to have been sung by one of the Welsh bards to Henry IT., on the occasion of a high festival, before that monarch sailed on his expedition to Ireland, to suppress the rebellion of the king of Connaught. " Stately the feast, and high the cheer ; Crirt with many an arm^d peer, And canopied with golden pall, Amid CilgaTraD*8 castle hall. Sublime in formidable state, And warlike splendour, Henry sate." Two or three miles from Kilgacran is the pleasant village of Kenarth, near which there is a romantic fall of the Teivy, forming a salmon-leap, over a ledge of rocks of considerable height. From the bridge over the noisy stream, is aii interesting though secluded panoramic view, comprising the river, a picturesque water-mill, and the church and village of Kenarth. The bold, dark foreground beautifully reflects itself in the shining waters. The gently-swelling hills, gradually receding from the sight, mingle their blue summits with the sky. The richly- variegated rocks, the quiet green paths winding along the river, the clamorous water-fowl wheeling about in restless eddies, the retreats of peace- ful seclusion, all combine to give to this scene, when beheld in the fading light, features of wildi^ess and p 210 NEWCASTLE EMLYN. beauty 'which cannot fail to produce a delightful im- pression on the mind. Evening was beginning to spread her misty veil over the Bcene^ as the Wanderer entered the little town of Newcastle Emlyn, intending to proceed onwards the following morning, and make Carmarthen his temporary home for a few days. Newcastle Emlyn is so connected with the borough of Adpar, in Cardiganshire, that they are usually considered as one town. They stand on either side of the Teivy, — ^Newcastle on the south, Adpar on the north bank ; and bending with the river, form an irregular street about one mile in length. New- castle had a Roman origin, as old Camden supposes, and was anciently called Dinas Emlyn, or the city ef Emlyn ; but took its more recent name from the new castle, built by Sir Rhys ap Thomas, upon the site of the old fortress.''^ It was evening, as I said, when, follow- ing the course of the Teivy, I entered this sequestered little place, occupying, as it does, only one of its delight- ful banks, and looking with friendly regard upon its opposite neighbour, the borough. The sun had sunk ♦ A Bingnlar piece of treachery and retribniion occurred in connec- tion with this place. During a truce between King Henry of England and Llewelyn, prince of Wales, commiBsioners were appointed to meet at Emlyn, to negotiate a peace. Patrick de Canton, the king's lieutenant, while on his journey thither, "learning that his own followers were more numerous than those of the Welsh deputies, laid a plan for their destruction, and attacked them with great violence while they were wholly unsuspicious of hostilities, and unprepared for defence. Several of their men were slain, and the chieftains them- selves escaped with great difficulty. David, the prince's brother, who was at the conference, immediately raised the country, and overtaking l*Atrick on his return, dew boUi him and the greater part of bis attfindanu*' NEWCASTLE EMLYN. 211 below the horizon with a splendour that belongs to the monarch of day. His career through the blue vault had been like that of " a bridegroom coming out of his chamber/' and the retinue of clouds^ ''in thousand liveries dight/' that had attended him to his settings clustered in masses of all forms^ at the parting line, bathed in the gorgeous hues of his farewell greeting. Softly they seemed to dissolve into rivers of light, studded with amber islands, or parted by bright head- lands of amethyst and jasper. As the hour advanced, the blue of the sky became changed to deepening grey, and fleecy fragments rolled off from the shifting clouds, and were wafted gently and silently, like phantom ves- sels, to the extreme verge of those molten streams. Creeks, and bays, and shining sands were painted there; rocks appeared pile upon pile, fantastic crags, golden fields and valleys, with rainbow-coloured boundaries, as though the fading pictures of earth had become trans- ferred to the glowing heavens, till the robe of night almost imperceptibly descended over all thiugs once so fair and full of delight. I love the dim twilight of an autumn day ; it is the calm season of the tranquil spirit. The lingering landscape fades gradually from the sight, and as day's last vestige silently departs, the mind, withdrawn from the attraction of external objects, intuitively looks inward, and takes up the thread of thought and reflection, or exercises the memory, or draws upon the powers of the imagination. "Oh ! Twilight ! Spirit that dost render birth To dim eochantments ; melting heaTen with earth ;«— Leaving on craggy hillt and running streams A softness like the atmosphere of dreams ; Thy hour to all is welcome ! " F 2 212 THE TOWEY. With the early dawn I surveyed the ruined fortress, of which but few^ and those the most picturesque frag- ments^ now remain, standing upon an eminence just at the point to which the Teivy advances its broad stream, and then gracefully curving in one of the most remark- able horseshoe bends ever seen, sends forward its refluent waters to wander through the green meadows, on its way to the sea at Cardigan Bay. Leaving the castle and the playful Teivy, I bent my steps across the country, over a wild and mountainous district, through Cynwyl Elfed, pausing only to visit a remarkable cromlech in its neighbourhood. This tract presents but little that can claim attention, or interest the feeling of the traveller, until within a few miles oi Carmarthen; when a scene of remarkable splendour bursts unexpectedly upon the delighted sight, compre- hending a portion of the vale of the Towey, the Gla- morganshire hills, part of the eastern arm of Milford Haven, the town and castle of Kidwelly, and a distant expanse bounded only by the far horizon. Does the traveller desire to see the characteristic beauties of this pleasant land combined together, or scattered over comparatively but a small space, and thus presented almost at once within his reach ? Let him take up his pilgrim's staff, and bend his steps, like the Wanderer, towards this picturesque county, where every diversity of mountain, river, coast, and valley scenery awaits him. Although the height of the moun- tains is not so great as in North Wales, yet in the district round Llyn y Van, Carreg-Uwyd Carnyd, and Trichrug, are found scenes which cannot be exceeded for romantic grandeur and sublimity. The county is CARMARTHEN. 213 watered by many interesting rivers, the chief of which is the Towey. It rises in Cardiganshire, and derives its first waters from an extensive morass on the hills near Tregaron, entering Carmarthenshire at the north- eastern extremity. It continues its course southerly to Llandovery, where it receives the united current of the rivers Bran and Gwdderig. It then runs past Langadoc and Llandilo Vawr, receiving many small tributary streams from the numerous mountains in this district. From Llandilo the Towey pursues its way westerly to Carmarthen, passing by and adding to the beauty of the scenery around Dynevor, Grongar Hill, Gtolden Grove, Middleton Hall, and other places celebrated for their sylvan beauties and historic interest. Besides the Towey there are other interesting rivers — the Tave, rising near the Percelly range ; the Gwendraeth Vawr; the Lloughor, having its source in the Black Mountains, with many others of smaller size — '' rivers unknown to song/' Carmarthen is pleasantly situated at the western ex* tremity of the vale of the Towey, and is in some parts of considerable elevation, giving it a commanding prospect of that river, with the fine stone bridge of many arches, that spans it, and the delightful valley stretching beyond. If there be a charm which makes one spot of earth more than another dear to the eye of the traveller, that charm is to be found in the power it possesses to call up the recollections of his personal history, or to associate his imagination and feelings with the events connected with it, in the passages of ages long since gone by. In these events are made audible the otherwise silent footfalls of Time. The I 214 CARMARTHEN. chronicler hears the sound, and detects the Ancient in his stealthy flight, and before his scythe can perform its destructive office, he notes them on his scroll, and this becomes history to following generations. And so it has been with this interesting place. The Egyptian geographer Ptolemy has recorded it as the Maridunum of its Roman conquerors ; and Carmarthen was once the capital of a district, towards which were conTci^ed the two great sections of that famous road, which tra- versed coast and mountain, called the Strata Julia. The pleasant sights and peaceful tracts that now detain the traveller's lingering steps, beheld the march of those mingled legions of haughty Rome, as they tra- versed, in warlike array, this region to camp or city, and from one line of conquest to another. But the period of Roman domination passed away, and Oiraldus relates, that it was a place of great strength in the times of its native rulers, and fortified with towers and high brick walls, the remains of which are now very inconsiderable, though there are still many traces of the ruins near the river. The county gaol is built on the foundation of the old castle, of which tradition has handed to posterity but a scanty account. It is known, however, to have been the seat of the princes of the country, before the royal residence was transferred to Dinevaur; and in this place the ancient Britons held their parliament. Both the castle and the town have undergone the usual changes that belong to ages of violence and disputed possession, and in their vicissi- tudes have been besieged, destroyed, and again rebuilt. Lambarde tells a stoiy, in connection with this neigh- bourhood, which strongly exhibits the attachment of CAKMARTHEN. 215 the natives to their country^ and the difficulty their in- vaders found in obtaining possession of it. '* Henry 11./' he says^ '' havinge taken Rese Griffin Prisonner^ a litle from Carmardin^ sent a Knighte of Normanny, accom* panied with the Deane of Cantermaur, to view the Castle of Dinevor and the country about it, meaninge, upon understandinge of the same, to have invaded that hole quarter. The Deane (beinge a Welcheman, called Guaidhamus) more lovingely to his Countrymen, then loyally to his Prince, conducted the Gentlemen throughe the most roughe, hyllye, and inaccessible places that he knewe, and when they wanted whereof to eate, he would lye downe, and fede on the Grass hungerley, sayinge, that ' his Countrymen had, for the most part, none other Foode -, * and thus, by Penurye and Travaile so wearyed the Knighte, that at his Retome he told the Kinge that ' the Countrye was more fitt for Beastes than Men, and not worthie the Charge of a Conquest.' The Kinge belevinge him, toke Rese Griffin's Homage, and sent him home without further Attempt against his Countrye.'' The church of St. Peter contains some singular and interesting monuments. The grotesque female figure kneeling on the south side of the chancel, by the aid of its quaint inscription, tells the beholder the story of extensive benevolence, and satisfies at the same time his curiosity, by describing the subject as "A choice Elizar of Mortalitie, • • • • Who by her loanes in spit of Aduene &te8y She did preeerue Mens peraone and EsUtes ; Would yoa then knoi^ who wen this good Womiui,. Twas virtuous Aknb the Lndj VAUOUAy.'* I 216 CARMARTHEN. Opposite to this excellent woman lie the recumbent figures of Sir Bhys ap Thomas and liis lady. The gallant knight^ clothed in a suit of plate armour^ with the insignia of his order, and the emblazonry of family honours; and his lady in the modest costume of the age in which she livedo with an emblematic dove at her feet. The traveller who looks upon these effigies in crum- bling stone^ now mutilated almost to obliteration, and calls to mind the stormy period in which the beings they are intended to represent once flourished, will not fail to rest his eye, with some interest, upon the subse^ quent pages, in which the Wanderer proposes to lay before him the curious and surprising incidents of the personal history of this warrior and his family, and their connection with the important events at that time occurring in South Wales. At the western suburb of the town is a monument commemorating the gallant deeds of Sir Thomas Picton,* * ** Li6ut«nant-General Sir Thomaa Ficton, G.C.B., memorable in the Peninsular campaign as the leader of what was pre-eminently called tfie Jfyhting division, was known by the appellation of the righi hand of Wellington. He received his death-wound in tho daring enterprise of leading a charge of infantry against a solid square of French cavalry ; an enterprise scarcely before attempted, except by Picton himself, who had more than once successfully executed it in the Peninsuk. The duke of Wellington, in his despatch, passes a just eulogium on his worth. As soon as our army was sent to Flanders>» government, it is stated, offered him the command of a division, but apprehending the duke of Wellington, as commander-in-chief, would leave the British force to some officer in whom he could not repose the same confidence, he declined the offer, adding, however, if the duke should personally require his servieesi, he would instantly repair to the armv. This requisition was made, and the general left the town on Jooe the 11th, and oo the 18th, terminated his honourable carctr in CARMARTHEN. 217 who was killed at the battle of Waterloo. It was erected from a meagre and unsatisfactory design pre- sented by Mr. Nash. On a square pedestal rises a Doric column, at the top of which is a statue of the general. On two sides of the pedestal were in* scriptions, and on the others basso-relievos of the en* gagements at Waterloo and Badajoz, but so carelessly were they executed, that the weather has already almost defaced them. In 1829, the Rev. Edward Picton pre- sented to the county a portrait of his brother, painted by the president of the Royal Academy, which is now suspended in the Orand Jury Room of the County Hall. From Carmarthen to Llandilo (a distance of about fifteen miles) there are two roads, which run nearly parallel with the Towey, and on either side that river, along each of which are many objects of great attrac* tion and interest for the antiquary and lover of nature. I determined first to examine the north or upper road, and see the hoary ruins of Dryslyn Castle — Orongar Hill, over which the poet Dyer has thrown such a halo of pleasant and quiet feeling, — ^the ancient royal for- tress and park of Dynevor, making Llandilo my resting- place for a few days, and returning by the lower road through Golden Grove to Carmarthen. the field of glory ! He had made his will before his deparfcare— he did not expect to return ; bat observed to a friend, that when he heard of his death, he would hear of a bloody day. The following pleasing trait in his character may be relied on : — Some time after relinquishing the government of Trinidad, the inhabitants voted him £5,000 as a testi- mony of their esteem. When a dreadful fire laid the capital in ashes at a subsequent period, a subscription was opened for the relief of the sufferers, and the general eagerly seized the opportunity of appro* priating the £5,000 to that object." ( 218 8IB BICHARD STEELE. On leaving Carmarthen^ on the opposite side of the Towey^ stands Llangunnor Uill^ below which is seen a farm-house^ called Ty Gwyn (the white house), and is that in which Sir Richard Steele* lived for many years, and wrote several essays and dramatic pieces. It is situated in the centre of the small estate he inherited from the Sherlock family. After his profusion and improvidence in the metropolis, and the consequent embarrassments he experienced, he lived here in com- parative seclusion, intending, by economy and the ex- ertion of his literary powers, to acquire a sufficient income to liquidate the debts contracted by his former extravagance, and maintain with credit his rank in society. This amiable and eminent man, towards the * Many humoroaa anecdotes ai*e related of Sir Richard, which throw 10016 light upon his habits and character. Sending one morning for Savage, the poet, without any previous conversation, he requested him to step into his carriage, and was followed by Sir Richard, when the coachman drove to a small tavern near Hyde Park Comer. Sir Richard then informed him that he intended to publish a pamphlet, and wished him to write while he dictated. After dining they again pro- ceeded with the pamphlet, which was finished in the evening, when Savage expected Sir Richard would call for the reckoning, and return Iiome. How was he surprised, when informed that the pamphlet must be sold before the dinner could be paid for ! and Savage was, therefore, obliged to go and offer the production for sale, and procured two guineas for it. Sir Richard then returned home, having retired for the day to avoid his creditors. On another occasion. Sir Richard having invited a party to dinner, his visitors were surprised at the number of liveries which surrounded the table ; after dinner, one of them inquiring how such an extensive train of domestics could be consistent with his fortune. Sir Richard frankly confessed they were fellows of whom he would very willingly be rid— that they were bailiffs ; and since he could not send them away, he had thought it convenieut to embellisii them with liveries. ABERGWILLI. 219 end of his life, was carried by two servants, in an open chair, about the neighbourhood. Two miles on the road is the village of Abergwilli. It was at this place that the good Prince Llewelyn fought an obstinate battle with Rhun, an adventurer from Scotland, calling himself the son of Prince Mere- dith. The adventurer ranged his troops in order of battle, and exhorted them to courage and constancy, but withdrew privately during the contest to a place of safety where he might watch the event. The brave prince, on the contrary, was seen wherever the battle raged the most fiercely, and by his valour achieved a victory, in which his enemy was slain, notwithstanding his efforts to escape. Near to the village, and just at that point where a most romantic bend of the Towey washes the margin of the lawn, stands the episcopal palace belonging to the Bishop of Saint David's, commanding a view of this majestic river in its refluent meanderings up the vale, before it resumes its onward course towards the sea. The Towey, when it leaves its early mountain -track, and receives the united streams of the Bran and Gwdderig, seems to revel with its accumulated waters through the rich valley that bears its name; at one time rolling in an impetuous headlong torrent, and then circling with a gentle current almost from side to side, as if to lave some favoured spot, or to expend its joy in sportive gambols, separating as it flows the whole extent into distinct portions of great beauty. About a mile beyond Abergwilli is one of these little dells, through which a clear and nameless stream pursues its i 220 merlin's hill. way from the hills to bury itself in the channel of the river. On the western side of this little dell an emi- nence rises, called Merlin's Hill, which tradition has assigned as the birthplace of this extraordinary man ; near the brow is an opening in the rocks, which the country people still credulously show as the place in which the seer practised his incantations. " For he by wordea could call out of the aVj Both suune aod moone, and make them him obey ; The land to sea^ and sea to maineland dry. And darkaom night he eke could turn to day ; Huge hostes of men he could alone dismay, And hostes of men of meanest things could frame, Whenso him list his enemies to pay : That to this day, for terror of his fame, The feendea do quake when any him to them does name." Ascending the hill yet higher, an extensive view presents itself of the vale as far as the hill above Llanarthney. The birth and life of Merlin, " surnamed Ambrosius,'* as may be supposed, is full of mystery. His mother was a royal virgin, the daughter of King Demetius, and, according to her confession, the prophet was "conceived by the compression of some fantastical spiritual creature." This, however, is considered only a fiction raised by her woman's wit, " to conceal the person of her sweetheart," whose life would have been endangered by a revelation of the truth. He was brought forth from his obscurity by the profligate King Vortigern, when he was purposing to build a castle to protect him from his enraged subjects ; but in which design he had been continually thwarted by prodigies of various kinds. The king, by the aid of his seer, at last accomplished his purpose. The castle was built. MERLIN. 221 and here tlie monarch is said to have dwelt in seclusion^ " diverted by the many pleasant fancies^' which Merlin devised to drive away his melancholy. But when the king's fate drew nigh. Merlin found means to escape from the devoted fortress, became a good Christian, and foreshowed truly many things to come. Among other events in which the ancient seer is concerned, he is said to have brought '^the great stones which stand till this day on the plain of Salisbury, during one stormy night from Ireland, and caused them to be placed there in remembrance of tlie British lords who were slain on that spot." Merlin was destined, not- withstanding his supernatural powers, to be the subject of human sympathies, and to endure some of the dis- appointments that arise out of them. He fell in love with the ''Lady of the Lake;" but "she was ever passing weary of him, and fain would have been delivered of him." The prophet followed his mistress into Brittany, where, as the tradition goes, he was enchanted into a white-thorn bush, in the forest of Breceliande, by the arts "which, in a moment of weak- ness, he had disclosed to her. His grave is said to be close by the fairy fountain of Baranton. In the words of the Gaulish chronicle, " Lk dort le vieux Druide, au murmure des eaux et du vent qui gemit dans les bruyeres d'alentour." Passing on two miles further I reached Pont ar Cothy, which extensive stream, rising in the north- eastern limits of the county, forms a junction with the Towey about a mile below the bridge. The antiquarian will find subjects for his research in this neighbourhood, amongst the remains of an old castle, on an elevated 222 DIIYSLYN CASTLE. part of the western bank of the Cothy^ within tvro miles of the road to Llandilo^ and of another fortress^ three miles beyond this^ on the eastern side of the stream. It was early mornings and the sun had just emerged from his cloudy pavilion^ when I started from Carmar- then to explore the abundant beauties of the district of the Towey. It was now noon, and that great luminary was on his southern track, but attended by such a retinue of turbid and ever-shifting clouds, as made me apprehend a fearful thunderstorm. I therefoi^ hastened onwards by Llanegwad, passing close to the river where it bends in terpentine evolutions amidst the luxuriant pastureJaud at Wern-ddu. Opposite to this place, looking over the Towey, rises Nelson's Tower, erected by Sir William Paxton, to commemorate the victory and death of that hero, and which forms one of the most conspicuous points in the vale. I now struck off from the main road, and turning to the right reached Felindre, and crossing the Dulas, a little tributary stream, came to Dryslyn Castle. The ruins of this ancient stronghold are situated on a bold green emi-> nence, which rises like an island in the midst of a wide opening in the valley, and overhangs the western shore of the Towey. Fx^om the summit of these ruins is one of the finest prospects in the vale, extending to the eastward eight or ten miles, and they themselves form an interesting object when viewed from the surrounding scenery. Dryslyn Castle once occupied a large space of ground, but its remains are now very inconsiderable, comprising only some fragments of the walls, and a part of one of DHYSLYN CASTLE. 223 the towers. It was erected by a prince of the house of Dynevor^ and was amongst the last of the possessions which that family was permitted to retain. In former times it must have been surrounded by a wild and savage tract of country; for Leland, in speculating upon its etymology, writes, '' Dryslan, as I learned, is as much as to say, a place ful of difficulte and encum* brance to passe through.^' This hoary castle has heard in the ''olden tymes'' the song of minstrelsy within its ancient halls, and beleaguering hosts have set them- selves down before its gates in deadly array. Near the spot where I stood, during the rebellion of Rhys ap Meredith, in the time of Edward I., its massy wall had given way from the operations of a secret mine, and buried in its fall the besieging generals, Stafford and Monchency, with many of their oflScers, The storm that I had feared, or anticipated, had now passed unbroken away. The clouds which had dogged the sun in its course had been dissipated, or drawn off like a retiring host to a distant part of the heavens, and, as I left the ruined castle, the sun again shone forth with increased splendour. The foot-track to the eastward led me over the rising ground by Pentre Bach, a few hundred yards beyond which rises the side of Grongar Hill. This celebrated place is much indebted both to history and poetry for the fame which it has so long enjoyed, and for the charm that still rests upon it. On its summit there have been traced, in later years, vestiges of a Roman encampment, with the usual rectangular intrenched ai^ea, which old Leland saw in his time, and which he describes -with liis usual minuteness and simplicity. i 224 ORONOAR HILL. " Ther is/' he says, " within halfe a myle of Drislan Castel on Tewe, a mightye campe of men of Warre, with 4 or 5 diches, and an area in the middle/' But Grongar Hill, like the Man of Ross, is indebted princi- pally to the force of friendship and the ferrour of poetry for the interest it has so long enjoyed. Who has not connected with the earliest associations of his mind the beauties with which the pen of Dyer* has invested it, and cherished amongst his most ardent anticipations, the impassioned desire to make a pilgrimage to this delightful spot ? "Grongar Hill invites my song, Draw ibe landscape bright and strong: Grongar, in whose mossy cells, Sweetly musing, Quiet dwells; Grongar, in whose silent shade. For the modest Muses made, So oft I have, the evening still. At the fountain of a rill, Sat upon a flow'ry bed. With my hand beneath my head. While strayed my eyes o'er Towey's flood. Over mead and over wood." I descended the hill, and bade adieu both to the historian and the poet, as the sun's last rays were resting on the opposite eminence above Golden Grove. For awhile he seemed to hang his shining orb on ita highest pinnacles, as if to bid a glorious farewell to the * Dyer was bom at the mansion called Aberglasney, on the estate, in 1700, and was educated for the profession of the law : but after the death of his father he became a pupil of Bichardson, an eminent artist of that day, and went to Rome for improvement in his art. Afterwards he relinquished painting, studied for the Cliurch, and procured the livings of Coningsley and Kirkby, in Leicestershire. LLANDILO VAWR. 225 hemisphere he was about to leave, and then withdrew, leaving the refractions of his brightness to fringe the mountain- peaks of Llangathan, and to spread a line of light along the surrounding ridge. The misty shades of evening were gathering around me when I gained the high road about three miles from Llandilo Vawr. It was not long ere I reached this little town, and took up my quarters at the Cawdor Arms. In its excellent accommodations, and at its bountiful table, I refr^hed myself, after a day of more than usual fatigue and pleasure, intending to make my visit to the grounds of Dynevor on the following morning, and to spend another day in exploring those dreary mountains, among which Carreg Cennen Castle rears its towering head; afterwards to return to Carmarthen along the vale, by the southern road, taking Golden Orove, and other objects of interest, in my way. Llandilo Vawr is a picturesque little place, occupy- ing the sloping sides of a hill, the ridge of which is the centre of the town, and the main road through it. It is built close to the edge of Dynevor Park, and just above the Towey, which here makes one of its capri- cious evolutions amongst the luxuriant meadows around. The river is crossed on the southern road by a substan- tial bridge, erected by the well-known Welsh architect David Edwards. The country round Llandilo abounds with so many objects to interest the tourist, that it ought to be made his rendezvous for a few days :* and * To those who can spare only one day, I would recommend the following ezonrsion from Llandilo : — through Dynevor Park to the old castle ; Llangathan Mountain, above Grongar Hill ; Dryslyn Castle ; then cross the river at the ferry to Nelson's Tower, and return through Golden Grove. Q M 226 DYNEVOR FARE. since tlie Cawdor Arms has been established, there is no lack of excellent accommodation, even for the most fastidious. To the angler this place affords abundant sport, from the salmon and trout fishing to be found in the Towey, and in several small streams around. It is the best point, also, from which to make excursions to the romantic scenery in the mountainous districts about Carreg Cennen, and along the rich and quiet retreats that form the most attractive beauties of the vale. Llandilo Yawr is not without its historical interest, for Caradoc mentions that the decisive battle between the armies of Edward I. and Prince Llewelyn, which subjected Wales to the sovereignty of England, was fought near this town, in 1282. On this occasion the king's forces were commanded by the earl of Gloucester and Sir Edmund Mortimer, who achieved the victory at a great sacrifice of life. The following morning was unusually fine, and the air delightfully fresh and invigorating. The overhang- ing mist lay stretched like a sleepy covering on the valley, while the distant hills were already lighted up with the bright rays of the god of day. Nature seemed astir in those elevated regions; in the valley she seemed to slumber with the sluggard's wish. Who would not choose to have his foot on those mountains, ''to be,*' as Jeremy Taylor says, "a courtier of the sun, to dwell in his eye, and look in his face, and wait npon him in his chambers of the east ?" I entered Dynevor Park by the little gate beside the main entrance, accompanied by an intelligent guide ac-> quainted with the neighbouring localities. On pro- ceeding only a few yards to an elevated part of the DYNEVOR PARK. 227 grounds^ a scene of surprising beauty seemed to burst upon tbe sight. The green and sloping lawns^ studded with stately trees^ dressed in coloured foliage^ appeared to swell and extend before the eye. Afar the tower of the castle reared its hoary head above the dark mass of tall oaks by which it was surrounded^ and with which it beautifully harmonized. Just opposite^ glowing in lights stood Golden Grove. As the morning advanced^ the fertile valley^ radiant with sunshine, revealing the clear, playful waters of the silver Towey, stretched right onward, while the mountain-ridges, far, far away, closed the wonderful scene. Directed by the guide, I bent my steps a few hundred yards to the left, towards an eminence called Venland Vawr, on which two groups of tall firs stand conspicuous, protecting the visitor from the heat of the sun, and affording by their shade the opportunity of quietly surveying the surrounding land* scape. With the exception of the view from the Deer Park, the prospects from this place are amongst the finest which the valley affords. Standing on this spot, which nearly bisects the vale, the view to the north-east, looking up the stream, ex- tends over the district of Llangadock almost to Llan- dovery, comprehending in' its more easterly range the high black mountain of Trichrug. Towards the south rise the hills around Carreg Cennen Castle, and the towering summits of Mynydd Du. Below is the ever- fresh and rolling river, from the banks of which spreads the domain of Gt>lden Grove, stretched as in a map before the sight. Pursuing my way towards the castle, I passed a deep dingle covered with immense trees and underwood^ ren- Q 2 228 CASTLE OP DYNEVOR. dercd almost transparent by the powerful rays of the sun which played upon it. A little beyond, near the junction of two winding roads, from almost opposite directions, an interesting and delightful landscape pre- sents itself; and, again and again, as I followed out the path, new and fresh combinations of natural beauty became evolved from the rich and varied elements so prodigally flung around this favoured place. Diverging o the left, I passed through a kind of avenue of full- ^own ash, which leads to the mouldering ruins of this once-splendid residence, now embosomed in aged trees, that seem to claim an ancestry coeval with the fortress itself. The remains of the royal Castle of Dynevor are considerable; one large tower, and some of the walls, continue almost entire. From the most authentic accounts, the castle was circular in its form, and fortified with a double moat and rampart, and appears to have been erected in 877, by Roderique the Great, and was in the possession of Rhys ap Theodore, who probably extended its site in the reign of William the Conqueror. Giraldus mentions this fortress in his Itinerary, as " the principal palaice of South Wales, standinge on the toppe of a hyll in Cantermawr.'* Soon after his time it was greatly damaged ; but, being rebuilt and forti- fied, it became the seat of the princes of the country. It was besieged by the forces of Henry I., in 1226; a sanguinary contest took place, and he was repulsed, with the loss of two thousand men, by Prince Llewelyn. It was alternately held by opposing belligerent parties^ but was finally demolished in the civil wars, and its ruins granted by Henry VII. to Sir Rhys ap Thomas, CASTLE OF DYNBVOR. 229 a descendant of the Welsh princes^ and ancestor of the present possessor of the estate^ to whom he was so much indebted for his recovery of the crown of Eng- land. Here^ in the reign of its ancient princes^ the bards used to assemble to keep their triennial festival of the Eisteddfod. I ascended what was once the round tower, built over a tremendous precipice on the south-east, and which formed one of the angles of the castle wall. From its topmost height I beheld a prospect the most varied, luxuriant, and enchanting, that the eye ever ranged over. The rich woods of oak and chestnut, clothing the precipitous descent of the castellated hill, down to the water's edge, and the valley stretching off from its base, arrayed in green and gold of the loveliest hues, intersected and enlivened by the sportive mean- derings of the river. Within reach of the vision were comprehended all of hill or valley scenery ; the bleak mountain- summits, rarely trodden except by the soli- tary foot of the curious traveller; and the verdant tranquil pastures, teeming with life and plenty; with here and there those distinguished spots which history and poetry have combined to invest with an earthly immortality. Dynevor will afford a day's enjoyment — ''a summer's day," — as Yorick says, " From morn to dewy eve." ^ And so it did to the Wanderer, who lingered amongst '' its beauties, till the young moon lighted his steps home- ^' wards to mine host's of the Cawdor Arms. ^ To the south-east of Llandilo Vawr, in the most ^ bleak and inhospitable district of South Wales, sur- 230 CABBEO CSNNEN CASTLE. rounded by a chain of almost inaccessible mountains^ stands Carreg Cennen Castle. Behind this barrier of everlasting hills, are deep wide valleys, in the lowest channel of which the Cennen rolls its stream, after rain, with the headlong fury of a mountain toirent. From the edge of this stream rises an insulated and almost perpendicular peak, on the summit of which, covering the whole extent, firown the black ruins of this stronghold of feudal power, accessible only on one side. The castle is said to owe its erection to one of the lords of Is Cennen, a knight of King Arthur's Bound Table. Its strong and simple masonry assigns it to an earlier origin, and its present remains exhibit its ample arrangements and impregnable strength. Caradoc, the Welsh chronicler, relates that it was once delivered up to the English, by the mother of Rhys Yechan, out of dislike to her son, but was afterwards retaken by him. There is a winding cave bored through the solid rock, which descends by the northern edge to the depth of one hundred and fifty feet, at the bottom of which was a well, intended formerly to furnish water to the garrison. From this elevated precipice the eye com- mands a prospect of prodigious extent, comprehending a large reach of the finest part of the vale of the Towey, the vale of Llangyndeirn, with the ocean in the distance, and the vale of Llandybie, with a consider- able portion of the vale of Llaughor beyond it. It was with the first rays of the morning sun that I commenced my walk to Carreg Cennen Castle; and before the inhabitants of the little town I had left, had resumed the busy occupations of the day, I had plunged deep into the wild cwms that separate the mountain* GOLDEN OROYE. 231 range connected with the Trichrug from the remark- able fortress to which I was pursuing my way. After surveying all the wonders which I have already de- scribed to the reader^ I set my face again towards that " river of romance/' whose picturesque shores had so long attracted my vagrant steps. My next resting- place was in the refreshing shades of Golden Orove^ one of the seats of Lord Cawdor. In the time of the Civil Wars between Charles I. and his Parliament, Cromwell, in his way to besiege Pembroke Castle, came suddenly across the country with a troop of horse, to seize the person of the royalist earl, who fortunately had received notice of his approach, and escaped in time to a sequestered farm-house amongst the hills, and thus avoided being taken. The Protector, disap- pointed in his purpose, dined with the countess, and afterwards pursued his march to Pembroke. The former house, belonging to the family of the Vaughans, was seated near the banks of the Towey ; but the new one, built by the present proprietor, is erected in the centre of the estate, commanding the sweep of the green lawn in front, the meadows which fringe it on the north to the river's brink, and the grey tower of old Dynevor, — on the west, the graceful line of Grongar HiU. This place will ever be associated in the mind of the English reader with the remembrance of that excellent man, Jeremy Taylor. Here he so»ight shelter during the period of Cromwell's ascendancy,'^ * At the commenoement of this straggle, Taylor joined the king at Oxford, and dedicated his time and pen to his serrice. Preriously to the termination of Charles's misfortunes, Taylor received from him, in tokeivof his regard, his watch, and a few pearls and rubies, which i 232 GOLDEN GROVE. and in this place he compoeed many of his Taluable works of practical devotion, one of which bears the title of Qolden Grove. This book has some poetical pieces which strikingly illustrate the sparkling richness of the author's mind. His '' Meditation on Heaven" contains this luxuriant passage : — "That bright eternity, Where the great King's traasparent throno la of an entire jaspar stone ; There the eje 0' the chrysolite And a sky Of diamonds, rubies, and ehiytopraa^ And above all, Thy holy tt^e, Make an eternal clarity. When Thon Thy jewels dost bind up, that day Bemember us, we pray, niat where the beryl lies And the crystal 'bove the skies, There Thou mayst appoint us a place Within the brightness of Thy fiice ; And our soul In the scroll Of life and blissfulness enrol, That we may praise Thee to eternity." Dr. Rust^ his biographer, thus describes him, when he was called upon to supply, for a time, the place of lecturer at St. Paul's Cathedral. " Here he preached," says Rust, *' to the admiration and astonishment of his auditory, and by his florid and youthful beauty, and had ornamented the ebony case in which he kept his bible. He suffered much, and was several times imprisoned during the Protec- torate of Cromwell ; but at the Itestoration, the smile of royal favour played upon him, and he became Mucoessively bishop of Down and Connor, chancellor of the Uniyersity of Dublin, and member of the Irish privy oouncil. KIDWELLY. 233 sweet and pleasant air^ and sublime and raised dis- courses^ he made his hearers take him for some young angel newly descended from the visions of glory." In the following eulogium^ the same biographer sums up his character, after the close of his career in death : — ''Nature/' says he, ''had befriended him much in his constitution ; for he was a person of a most sweet and obliging humour, of great candour and ingenuity ; and there was so much of salt and fineness of wit, and prettiness of address in his familiar discourses, as made his conversation have all the pleasantness of a comedy, and all the usefulness of a sermon ; his soul was made up of harmony, and he never spake but he charmed his hearers, not only with the clearness of his reason, but all his words, and his very tones and cadences, were strangely musical." It was drawing towards the close of the day when I reached Kidwelly, a little town once rivalling the port of Carmarthen, but now much lessened and reduced, standing on both sides of the lesser Owen- draeth, which is here crossed by a handsome stone bridge. The castle, which occupies a bold rocky emi- nence on the western side of the Gwendraeth Fach, forms the object of greatest interest to the traveller. There is an air of solemn magnificence in the appear- ance of this edifice, and its remains are, perhaps, in a more perfect state than those of any similar structure in the Principality. The strength of this fortress corresponded with the important part it sustained in the perpetual conflicts which marked the early history of the country. The massy walls which inclosed its square area were not only fortified by strong angular i 234 KIDWELLY. towen^ bat also at measured intervals by lesser ones^ by means of which its defenders could readily com- municate assistance to each other^ or interrupt any temporary success on the part of its besiegers. Its magnificent gateway to the west was protected and ornamented by two lofty round towers^ which are still in tolerable preservation. This castle was built b} King John, but was repaired and strengthened by the Norman adventurer William de Londres. It after- wards changed possessors with the various dominant masters of this unhappy country, during its state of feudal government and civil warfare. It fell into the possession of the famous Sir Rhys ap Thomas, in the time of Henry YII., and was finally devised to Lord Cawdor by one of the family of the Yaaghans^ of Golden Grove. CHAPTER XIV. Planiag. — Sioce yon are tongue-tied, and so loth to epeak, In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts; Let him that is a true-born gentleman. And stands upon the honour of his bii-th. If he suppose that I have pleaded truth, From off this briar pluck a white rose with me. Som. — Let him that is no ooward, nor no flatterer. But dare maintain the party of the truth. Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me. Wctr, — ^I love no colours, and, without all colour Of base insinuating flattery, I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet. 5tt/.— I pluck this red rose with young Somerset, And say, withal I think, he held the right.— Shaksfeabb. Henry Y. of England^ or^ as he was called in his youth^ Harry of Moumouthj had finished a brilliant career of military achievements at the Castle of Vin* cennes^ in France^ and the sceptre of Britain passed from the hands of one of its bravest and most vigorous princes into those of his baby successor. The im- becility of the child was followed by the incapacity of the man; and the reign of Henry VI. gave rise to that ferocious civil contest^ known best by the name of the War of the White and Bed Hoses. It was in I 236 SIR anrs af thomjis. the wild mountai ib of Wales that the White Bofle, the emblem of the House of York, first badded, and after- wards became the signal of victory in the sanguinary and well-fought fields of St. Albans, Northampton, Mortimer's Cross, and on the plains of Towton. At this time, Gruffydd ap Nicholas (whose descend- ants became at a subsequent period the lords of Aber- marlais, in Carmarthenshire) exercised great power and influence in the southern division of the Princi- pality. Ambitious, turbulent, and crafty, he was well fitted to play a conspicuous part in the stirring times in which he lived. Too choleric to be long at peace with his powerful neighbours, he was alternately engaged in deadly feuds with the leaders and adherents of both the contending parties that disturbed the empire. Consistent and unremitting only in his hatred to the English, he permitted his retainers to conmiit continual depredations upon the possessions of the Lords Marchers, and to pillage their lands. The injury thus inflicted upon the English borders was too great and frequent to pass unnoticed, and in one of those occasional pauses in this nge of civil strife, — the quietness of exhaustion rather than the repose of peace, — Gruflydd was cited before the king's court, to answer for his violence and contumacy, and Lord Whitney and other commissioners were sent into Wales to investigate his conduct. Grufl'ydd, who had heard of the commission, but was not fully informed of its objects, laid his plans with the craftiness, and executed them with the boldness, peculiar to his character. He contrived to dissipate any fears which the commissioners might have entertained from his SIR RHYS AP THOMAS. 237 formidable power, by meeting them on their entry into Carmarthenshire, himself meanly dressed, and accom- j panied only by four or five attendants " raggedlie attired,'^ and as miserably mounted. Right glad was | Lord Whitney to find the truculent Welshman, as he thought, then in his power, and not a little astonished was he also to hear him, with apparent affability and confidence, offer his services to conduct the commis- i sioners to Carmarthen, the place of their destination. The party moved forward in high glee, each speculating with secret satisfaction upon his success, and conversing with that ease and volubility which belongs naturally to persons so well content with themselves. Their road followed the windings of the Bran as far as the little town of Llandovery, near which that river unites with the Gwydderig in its confluence with the Towey. On the western bank, situate on a rocky emi- nence, the castle looked over the whole extent of the romantic vale of the Bran. The united waters of these celebrated streams formed then, as now, that majestic river which is the glory of this part of the Principality. The English lord, and the commissioners in their official array, followed by the humble Welshman, with his tattered attendants, crossed the river by the fine stone bridge a little below the town, and pushed forward in a brisk trot towards the princely mansion of Abermarlais. The thick woods that lined the shores of the Towey completely hid the towers of the castle from the view of the approaching party. A graceful curving of the ! road, however, brought them unexpectedly to the foot of the gentle eminence on which it stood. Grufiydd^ 240 SIR RUY8 AP THOMAS. as it was into a formidable company by the two sons of Gruffycld with their mountain retainers. The road hitherto had run along the base of that mountainous ridge which lines the northern side of the Towey, almost from Llandovery to Carmarthen^ until it reaches that bright open plain^ where the Gwilli forms its junction with that river^ giving its signiKcant title to the little village of Abergwilli. The party had scarcely debouched into the plain, before it was met by a splen- did body-guard of five hundred "tall men'* on foot, handsomely dressed, and well armed and accoutred, under the command of the elder son of Grufiydd. Thus magnificently attended, the commissioners entered Carmarthen, then the capital of South Wales, and were conducted with the greatest ceremony to the sumptuous lodgings that had been prepared for them. Grufiydd now excused his further presence upon the commissioners, and committed to his sons the care of seeing to their accommodation, and of attending upon them to the banquet that was prepared in the Guild Hall of the town. Lord Whitney was not displeased to escape the keen observation of his companion, and finding himself now more at ease, privately sent for the mayor and sherifis, and, opening to them the commission with which he was charged by the king, demanded their assistance to arrest Grufiydd, which it was agreed should be done on the following morning. The banquet was now prepared, and the commissioners were escorted with much pomp by the sons of Grufiydd, attended by their men-at- aims, to the hall. The tables had been arranged along the centre of the floor, and according to the archi- SIB EHTS AP THOMAS. 241 lecture of these times^ a row of pillars^ with grotesque* fanciful carvings separated the upper end of the room^ which was slightly elevated^ and which was usually set apart for the most distinguished guests. To a seat purposely placed here^ and splendidly hung with cloth of goldj Owen conducted Lord Whitney^ and took his station immediately on his right. On each side of this elevated part of the spacious haU^ galleries had been raised^ in which were placed the ancient bards of that land of minstrelsy. The guests betook themselves with right good will to dispense the cheer which had been sumptously provided^ according to the profuse hospi- tality which then prevailed. Owen plied his noble guest, during supper, with those sweet-spiced liquors which formed no inconsiderable part of the domestic expense of the nobles, the mixture of which was an art derived principally firom the French, and was greatly esteemed by our ancestors in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. "There was eke wexing many a spice As dowe, gilofire, and licorice, GiDgibir, and grean de Paris, Canell at setewale of pris. And many a spice delitable To eaten whan men rise fro table." Ypocras and garhiofilac, as bring the most prised at this period, with other " delicate and precious drinks,'' were lavishly distributed on this occasion, and served not a little to produce in the English commissioners a state of convivial carelessness and hilarity. Owen was prepared to take advantage of this, and observing that Lord Whitney had put the commission into the open B 242 SIR BHT8 AP THOMAS. sleeve of his cloak, he contrived to abstract it from thence unnoticed, and to place it securely in his own pocket. Then turning to Lord Whitney, with great significance, ''Methinks our noble guest," he said, ''should lose for awhile the weighty matters of state, that have doubtless brought him to these rude parts, and do the honour to this festive greeting which our country's customs require. Hither, boy,'' beckoning to his attendant, " bring our family's hirlas, and see that it lack not of that precious liquor which thy art has taught thee so delicately to prepare." In a few minutes the attendant returned, bearing the ample hirlas, or drinking-horn, — ^usually filled, and emptied at a draught, at great festive assemblies, which was at once the pledge of fidelity and the expression of personal hospitality. The hirlas which the Welshman presented to the English lord in this case, was of large dimensions and graceful contour, finely polished and richly inlaid with plates of solid silver, chased with the family names and device, and to which was pendent a massy chain of the same precious metal. Lord Whitney knew the custom to which his host alluded, and being too well satisfied with himself to oppose his humour, he drained the contents of the horn with evident satisfaction. Owen now gave a sign to his favourite bard, Tudor Aled, whose fingers had for some time been gliding rapidly, though silently, over the strings of his harp, which was already placed to do honour to his own and his country's fame. " Minstrel," said Owen, " thou art wont to enliven our festivals with thy instrument, which I know thou SIB RHYS AP THOMAS. 243 boastest of; prepare now thy happiest strain^ such as is suited to this high occasion^ and let our noble guest hear what melody thy practised hand can call forth from that harp of thine/' The bard waited not for further parley. He compre- hended his patron's meaning, and after sweeping with flying fingers across the diapason of his instrument, as if to instruct his ear in the echoes he meant to awaken, he dashed at once into that bold festive song of the princely poet of his country. " Fill the H1BLA8 HoBN, my boy, Nor let tlie tuneful lips be dry That warble Owen's praise ; Whose walls with warlike spoils are hong. And open wide his gates are flung In Cambria's peaceful dayt. By Owen's arm the valiant bled ; From Owen's arm the coward fled Aghast with wild affiight ; Let then those haughty lords be^^toe How Owen's just revenge they dare. And tremble at his sight." The guests were all hushed into breathless silence when the bard ceased ; and as he gently put aside his harp, whose wild peculiar tones were still lingering in dying cadence within the spacious hal], he exhibited that striking and almost prophetic character which belonged to his order, in its best days, before the cruel massacre of Bangor, when the Welsh bards animated their country's warriors to the fight, or sung their victories. His rich mantle of blue doth, thickly embroidered with small figures in gold of the raven, his patron's crest, and lined with the for of the beaver, B 2 244 SIR EHTS AP THOMAS. an animal tlien not uncommon in the Principality^ was' fastened at the right shoulder by a massy clasp of polished gold; his vest or tunic was of azure silk, exposing the form of his ample chest as it expanded with the enthusiastic efforts of his minstrelsy; while encircling his neck, a broad gold chain of twisted links, the gift of his patron, had hung gracefully vibrating during the rapid motion of his fingers as they passed along the instrument. The venerable bard arose when his song was finished, and as he leaned upon ''his harp so fair,'' he seemed in the majestic outline and rich illumination of hiB figure, to stand like the very type of his perished race, invested with the grey antiquity of ages. ' making the air vocal with their melodj; and the shallow stream of the Neath-fychan rippled garrulously over its rocky bed. On departing from Pont Neath Yaughan, I took the same route as on the day before^ and ascended^ with renewed spirits and elastic step> the southern path that leads over Craig-y-Dinas. I stayed not to enjoy again the scenes of the past evenings but hastened forward to accumulate the treasures which almost every step afforded. It would have been impossible to have passed over the high ground of Cilhepstefach^ immediately beyond the broad rock I had just traversed^ without pausing to cast " one longings lingering look'' over the enchanting Vale of Neath. Pursuing my path over this elevated tracts I now first caught sight of that fine river^ the Hepste^ one of the objects of my search^ peacefully gliding through a richly-wooded dingle to the point where it joins its sister stream, the Melte. I traced a zigzag path on the high ground above the stream of the Hepste, and then threading my way down the cwm amidst a forest of trees and underwood, with the noise of the cascades constantly breaking upon the ear, reached the higher fall of the river. It con- sists of one broad sheet, and descends a distance of forty feet into a large and deep basin below. So rapid is the torrent, that the path to the other side of the stream is under the falling sheet of water, which roars with a deafening noise as its fretted stream reaches the bottom of the fall,-^then billowing in its deep channel, or making eddying circles as if to regain its wonted composure, it sends forward at last its majestic stream 298 FALLS OF THB MELTE. with the same joyous haste and swelling importance as before. On my path amidst the trees and rocks to the junc- tion of the two rivers^ I passed the three lower falls^ which the heavy storm of the preceding evening had increased to their full force of magnificent display. Having remained a considerable time amongst these remarkable scenes^ I once more turned away to the high ground^ almost relieved that the deafening sound of the roaring cataracts had subsided^ from the distance, into the solemn and ceaseless murmur that seems to pervade these regions. Passing the farmhouse of Cilhepste-coed, I directed my steps again towards the Melte. There are three waterfalls on this river; the most distinguished is called Clungwyn, and is the highest upon the stream; its peculiar characteristic is in the great volume of water it throws over an abrupt projection, at the height of seventy feet. There is no approaching it from below, all access being closed by the rocky precipitous banks of the river, and it loses the richer beauties which belong to the falls of the Hepste, while it maintains a successful rivalry in the more awful and sublime features of the mountain cataract. Advancing up the rich cwm of the Melte, I passed the farm of Hendre-bolon : pursuing my way again towards the stream, I reached another hollow, called Cwm Forth, in which is to be found that stupendous natural cavern, through the dark bottom of which the Melte runs for nearly four hundred yards, without in the slightest degree disturbing the incumbent surface of the land. The river rolls its dark tide beneath, and > 1 I' CWM FORTH. 299 the harvest-field waves above^ as it has done for gene- rations past. The cavern of Cwm Perth is within two miles of Ystradfellte. The approach on the upper or northern part of the river is exceedingly picturesque ; but the visitor is not aware of the stupendous natural aqueduct he has the opportunity of exploring until he reaches the river^ when he feels the full force of its peculiar wildness and grandeur. On either side of the opening, numbers of forest and other trees, of great diversity of form and variety of foliage, grow spontaneously ; even in the fissures of the bold rocks, high above the head of the spectator, large trees are seen expanding towards the sky. At the entrance, the cavern is about forty feet wide and twenty high. There is sufficient light, on a fine day, for examining about fifty yards of this natural tunnel, when it gradually fades away into im- penetrable gloom, and nothing but the blaze of a flam- beau will enable the visitor to complete the inspection of this extraordinary place. CHAPTER XVII. TRECASTLE — BRECON — CRICKHOWEL — LLANTONY. And oft the craggy cliff he loved to climb, When nil in mist the world belovr was lost, What dreadful pleasure f there to stand sabUme, Like shipwrecked mariner on desert coast, And view the enormous waste of vapour tossed In billows, lengthening to the horizon round, Now scooped in gulfs, with mountains now embossed t And hear the voioe of mirth and song rebound. Flocks, herds, and water&lls, along the hoar profound ! Bkattix. The inhabitant of one of the quiet rural districts qf " merry England/' whose eye has been accustomed to rest only upon the green slopes and flower-enamelled meadows of his native land, teeming with happy life and rich in verdant beauty, can form no adequate idea of the scene which is presented in a region of sterile rocks, interchanged only here and there by solitary cwms or hollows, where a scanty vegetation struggles for existence, and over which the foot of the enterprising traveller rarely treads. The county of Brecknock, like that of its neighbour Glamorgan, presents, in many parts, the same wild features of untamed nature that it did when the ancient lords of Cambria left it to the undisputed possession of THE MOUNTAIN DISTRICT. 801 its aboriginal tenants, the foxes,'^ while they chose their more genial dwelling-places in the fertile vales lying east of the Severn. The lofty ridge of the Epynt Mountains stretches itself in a north-easterly direction, from the confines of Carmarthenshire, nearly up to the little town of Builth, dividing the county of Brecknock into two unequal parts. The southern portion of the county sustains a chain of enormous rocky elevations, commencing also in the neighbouring county of Carmarthen, and con- tinuing, in successive ridges, till it terminates in the east near the Usk, a little below the town of Crickhowel. Between these chains, to the westward, and appearing as if to make up the circle of rocks, rises abruptly the Black Mountain, near to the small hamlet of Talgarth. The old road, as it is called, from YstradfeUte to Brecknock, traverses the mountain district, and as it comprehended many of the wild features of the county, I chose it for my track as far as my wanderings might render it available. About two miles from the village, I came to another fall of the Melte, which, although extremely picturesque, from the angular direction in which the river is projected, is unaccompanied either by the luxuriant vegetation, or the romantic character, which give so much beauty and interest to the others. Beyond this fiall the scene became indescribably dreary. Immediately before and around me arose hill after hill, in weary succession, whose dull monotonous brown turf afforded but a bare existence to the meagre flocks that sought their pasture. On the verge of my path towered * The primitiTe name of BrecknockBhire was Garth Madrin, the Foxhold. UPPER VALB OP THE USK. the bald rocky summits of Y Fan-Uia and Y Fan-nedd, like guardian giants of the district over which I was travelling. That portion of the great Strata Montana, known by the name of Sarn Helen^ traverses for a con- siderable length of way the same elevated direction; but the track of the haughty Roman diverges off west- erly, near to a great stone, called Maenllia, that is con- spicuously placed on this spot, and gradually descends on the south side of the pleasant vale of Senni, towards the point where it joins the Julia Strata, on its road to the great station of Oaer. My path bent in an easterly direction, and brought me to the head of the precipi- tous dingle of Cwm-du, through which it passes, skirted on the right by the lofty mountain-ridge of Y Fan- irynach, nearly up to the town of Brecknock. Fa- tigued by the difficult road I had been for some time traversing, and wearied with the stern aspect of those eternal rocks, I determined to sojourn here awhile, and seek the genial relief of a day's placid retreat to the rich valley of the Usk. I rose early ; for to me a morning in waning autumn yields the greatest enjoyment, which the seasons, in their ceaseless revolution, afford. There is a peculiar freshness in the early air, which animates the spirits, and raises up pleasant images in the mind — " It fiuiB the feyenah brow, And cheerily re-illames the lambent flame of Ufa" There is a rich composure in the manifold colours of the forest leaves, and a mellow harmony, that naturally belong to the time of the year, all of which throw their influence over the feelings. Besides this, in an autumn UPPER VALE OF THE U3K. 303 day are those frequent changes^ which possess an inef- fable charm for the wayward mind« The copious dews of the prime are sometimes dispersed by the rising sun^ darting his intermittent ray through the opening lids of the morning clouds^ like the bright eye of some heavenly being, and pouring a flood of light from his molten fountain, with an intensity and a fierceness which midsummer fails to bring. Then there is the uncertain wind, which sweeps in sudden and capricious gusts, scattering the bright leaves, and whirling them in eddies all around; there is the drizzling shower, pattering monotonously, but not unmusically, amongst the forest trees ; and then, not unfrequentfy, there is the wild tempest to close up the evening. The river Usk rises in the mountain-range called the Carmarthenshire Fan, which divides the counties at their westerly point, near Trecastle. From this place it rolls its tide in an easterly course towards Breck- nock and Crickhowel, where it enters the county of Monmouth, and, passing by the towns of Abergavenny, Usk, Caerleon, and Newport, empties itself through its estuary into the Severn. The lower vale is the most luxuriant and romantic ; but the passage of the river from Trecastle to the town in which I was sojourning, or along the Upper Vale, as it is called, has its own peculiar beauties. The road from Trecastle runs on the right of the river, sometimes rising in the form of a terrace above it, and again tracing its undulating line by the side of its silvery stream, sharing in all the beauties of its devious course. The Cray and the Isker pour their waters into its channel before it reaches Brecknock. The pleasant villages of Llanspyddid and 804 BRECKNOCK. Aberisker may be seen from its banks ; and the Boman encampment on a rising ground, near the confluence of the Isker and the Usk, will detain and delight the anti- quarian in his researches. This beautiful river derives much of its captivating character from the magnificent timber that decorates its shelving banks, and from the oc- casional glades and openings they afford, through which the clear bright stream is seen meandering and flowing in its course. The eye of the Wanderer, which had gazed with inexpressible delight upon these enchanting scenes, was in an especial manner refreshed when he came, unexpectedly, within sight of the romantic bridge of Pont Pwl Gwyn, stretching its single chord across the channel of the river. Fir-trees of extraordinary growth, such as are rarely seen but in this district, reared high their green peaks in the foreground, and groves of majestic oaks mingled their varied autumnal hues in one rich and harmonious combination, from the summits of the verging banks to the water's edge. The looming line of distant hills, irradiated with the last rays of the setting sun, formed the back-ground of this exquisite picture, while the gentle Usk glided in soft imruffled beauty through the tranquil scene. Brecknock, or to recall its ancient and more classical name of Aberhonddu, derived from the circumstance of its standing at the point where the Honddu unites its waters with the Usk, is one of the pleasantest towns in the Principality. Old Churchyard describes it, in his day, as "Well«bailt withoat, yea trim and fayre within, With sweet prospect, that shall your favour win." It possesses architectural remains which connect it with / V , O BRECKNOCK. 305 the most important events of past ages, and is sur- rounded by natural objects of the most sublime and beautiful character. It was anciently encircled by a wall, which, in Speed's time, was perfect, surmounted by ten towers, at nearly equal distances, and had five gates of entrance. The castle, which was one of the earliest structures of this description in Wales, once occupied the brow of an abrupt hill, on a point of land washed on the south and east by the waters of the Honddu. It was built by the Norman, Bernard de Newmarch, after his signal defeat of the Welsh in this district, with a magnificence and strength calculated to overawe his conquered subjects. It arose in the latter part of the eleventh century, and has passed through several powerful families, who successively improved and enlarged it, till it was besieged, and nearly de- stroyed, in the Civil Wars between Charles and his Parliament. Its proud bearing on the banks of the subject waters of the Honddu and Usk, with the chivalric passages and baronial splendour which mark its eventful history, are all, however, reduced to a few miserable ruins ; but the rivers still glide on as hereto- fore — with the same eagerness and impetuosity as they did when the Norman trod upon their banks. Old Giraldus tells a singular story in relation to the founder of the castle, which I shall give in the chronicler's words : — " This Bemarde'' (says he) '^ had a faire wife, called Nesta, whiche was greatly in love with a gentle- man whiche haunted her chamber, whiche thinge, as Bemarde's son, Mabel, espied, he lay in awayte for him, and beate him; the mother (to make argument of a woman's malice) mad haste to Kinge Henry I., and in X i 306 BRECKNOCK. his presence avowed upon her oonsciens that he was bom from iinlawfull conversatioDj whereupon the kinge gave her daughter^ Sybil, which remayned (by her own confession legitimate), and the honor of Brecnoc, to Miles Fitzwalter, his constable, whiche was after Earle of Hereford." Of this confession. Barton says : — " That if true, it declared her dishonesty ; if false, her perjury; but whether true or false, her matchless impudence." There is a circumstance of too much historical impor- tance in relation to this lady to be passed oyer in silence. When Macbeth, the tyrant of Scotland, murdered Banquo, his son Fleance fled for protection to the court of Gryffydd ap Llewelyn, the grandfather of Nest, of whom he became enamoured. An illicit connection followed, and a son, afterwards named Walter, was the consequence. The indignant Gryfiydd commanded Fleance to be put to death for this breach of hospitality and honour, but his son was treated with kindness, and educated in the martial exercises of the age. Upon some reproach being cast upon his birth by one of his companions, Walter killed his antagonist and fled into Scotland. Here he distinguished himself in the public service, and became lord steward of the realm, and the lineal ancestor of the royal house of Stuart. The side of the castle was a parallelogram, with a massy inward wall and strong angular watch-towers. The entrance was on the western and eastern sides, with a deep moat surrounding the whole, over which were thrown bridges of communication. The principal part now remaining is that which once formed the keep, on an artificial mound to the north-east, designated Ely BRECON. 307 Tower, from its having been the place of imprisonment to Moreton, bishop of Ely. To this gloomy tower did the crafty Buckingham repair, when disappointed of the ambitious hopes which the crooked-back tyrant had led him to indulge, to hold a secret conference with the imprisoned bishop ; and here did these wily politicians concert the plan which, in its progress, led the warrior to the scajfold, and the churchman to the highest honours of the hierarchy. It may be useful for the reader to know, that these ruins of the castle now ornament the lawn of the inn, which has taken its name from this circumstance, and I would furthermore recommend him, from my own experience, to these excellent quarters during his stay at Brecon. It is curious to contemplate that union of devout feeling with natural ferocity and social injustice, which distinguished this age of military adventure and con- quest. There is, indeed, no truth-telling diary placed upon record, — no secret confession that has escaped from under the seal, — ^which discloses those secret operations of the mind that led to this singular con- nection, except it were as the historian has written, " to make atonement for vice and irregularity/' but the fact is demonstrated by the numerous religious houses which the Norman conquerors of this country every- where erected. The lord of Brecknock, in accordance with the character of the times, when he had sub- jugated the inhabitants of this district, reared at once the fortress, which has just been described, to con- solidate his conquest, and a Benedictine priory, which he dedicated to the apostle St. John, and whose holy brotherhood ministered spiritual instruction and con- X 2 ( 308 BRECON. solation in the chapel built within the fortress. The priory, with its church bearing the same apostolical designation, occupied a situation near to the castle, on the western bank of the Honddu. The former has almost entirely disappeared, save an embattled waU, and a portion of the old building now used for stables and out-ofSces, while a comparatively modem mansion bears its title and occupies its sitc^ The inner area of the priory grounds is laid with a green carpet of nature's own weaving, and the ancient walls of the church and priory are matted over with a level covering of the most verdant ivy. The walk by the sloping side of the brawling Honddu bears a forest of sycamores and walnuts of great luxuriance and age, and was once used as the ambulatory of the good old monks. The aged domestic of the place shook his head when I asked him the date of their planting, and resorting to the usual mode of computation with all grey-beards, replied, " Why, Sir, I am seventy years old come next Candlemas, and I remember they were fine trees when I was a boy." The church has been preserved with great care, and displays the peculiar features of its origin and history through so many generations; the repairs and embellishments, which have been so fre- quently supplied, have been made with much taste, and correspond as nearly as possible with the original struc- ture. It is ornamented with some ancient and modem * '* In this house, Charles I., tfter the battle of Naseby, dined with Sir Hubert Price, and slept on the 5th Angnst, 1645. From henoe he despatched a letter to Prince Charles, then in Cornwall, in which he seems dearlj to foresee his ikte, and advises his son to quit the kingdom, and flee to France." — Joneis Bredmockthire, BEECON. 809 monaments of exquisite design and execution^ and contains what are called the Yicar^s and the Marquis of Camden's Chapels. The whole pavement of the tran- sept is covered with " long flat stones/' the mortuary memorials of those who have lived and died, and the extent of which is divided by what are termed the Battle Chapel, — ^the Chapel of the Men of Battle, — and the Capel Cochaiad, or chapel of the red-haired men, as the Normans were called. St. John's^ or the Priory Church, is built in the form of a cross, from the centre of which rises an embattled tower. The churchyard is an object of great interest. Instead of sweet-scented flowers, the green turf of the graves is adorned with sprigs of the laurel and box, which the hand of affection has placed there, according to the custom of this county.* Venerable yew-trees, of prodigious growth and age, claim almost a coexistent antiquity with the consecrated building, with some splendid specimens of the sycamore, and throw an air of deep solemnity over the scene. "All that have died, the Earth's whole race repose Where Death collects his treasures, heap on heap ; O'er each one's busy day the night shades close ; lis actors, sufferers, schools, kings, armies — sleep,** The tongue of land, near which the priory stands, has furnished to the inhabitants of Brecon one of the most beautiful public promenades in the empire. The walks are traced in undulating lines through the luxuriant groves that cover its surface, carrying their umbrageous shade down to the brink of the river, while the Honddu * The unfortunate Dr. Dodd, who was attached to this prebendary, has celebrated this interesting usage by a beautiful little poem. ^ 810 BRECON. continues to sweep round this miniature headland, roll- ing its ceaseless stream as restless and turbulent as in ages that are gone for ever. There is also the church of Saint Mary, which stands in the centre of the town. It, however, contains but few monuments of interest, and is principally admired for its ancient steeple, and the eight musical bells it contains, oast by Mr. Rudhall, of Gloucester. Besides the Benedictine priory, there was another building of the same character, near the east end of the town, of the order of St. Dominic, which is said to have been erected by the same renowned Norman. This might have been the case but for one chronological fact, that the saint did not live till after the warrior was dead. This institution was transformed into a seat of learning by Henry VIII., at the general confiscation of religious houses, which took place in his reign, with the title of the "College of Christ Church, Brecknock,'' and in the church anciently belonging to this monastery, dedi- cated to St. Nicholas, were buried the three bishops, !Mainwaring, Lucy, and Bull. This relic is in a most dilapidated state, pervious to the rain, which at the time I visited it was dripping through the roof, and falling upon the black and mouldy floor in melancholy and measured iteration. The old sanctuary has, how- ever, some monuments besides those of the good bishops, including two recumbent figures in alabaster, and a full-length statue of Colonel Walker, once the recorder of the town. Nothing could appear more painfully desolate than this deserted edifice, in which, the old clerk informed me, there had not been divine service performed for BRECON. 311 more than tliree years^ except an annual charity sermon, to which appertained a bequest sufficient to pay the lec- turer for his discourse^ and a dole of bread for the poor. The empty stalls stand in a rank round the damp and dingy walls, marked with the names of the parishes which they represent, and the offices of dean, precentor, and treasurer. The aged official, at my elbow, said some very hard things about the appropriation of the funds of this establishment; but the most melancholy circumstance he had to tell, was that his own occupa- tion was gone, and that the chapter was in debt to him thirty or forty pounds in the way of salary, which seemed to his foreboding mind to be in imminent jeopardy. The learned author of the History of Brecknockshire has bestowed upon the ecclesiastical authorities of his time a just rebuke for their neglect of the sacred edifices in this county ; and surely some portion of this censure may be properly applied to the appointed conservators of this venerable building. It must be confessed, indeed, that the traveller, especially the antiquarian traveller, is disposed to look with mournful interest upon the ruins of ancient buildings, either on account of their architectural grandeur and beauty, or their association with great names, and the important and picturesque passages of history. There is, as a very pleasant writer has said, " an exquisite pro- vision of Nature, in this tendency of the human mind to prefer by-gone times to the present, because it leads us to respect the past, like the memory of the dead, and retain of it only what is beautiful and good.'^* But * "Letters from the Shores of the Baltic," one of the most liyely and sensible among the many books of travels that are published. ( 312 BRECON. the traveller should not forget^ while he expends his regrets upon a fallen fabric, like this of Christ Church, to inquire whether the real purpose of its erection has not been supplied hj more suitable buildings, and by a process of religious instruction better adapted to the wants of the community with which it is connected. I felt too much interest in the fate of the old edifice, not to seek for information from the best authorities on this point, and I have a lively satisfaction in giving the result of my inquiry in the words of my intelligent correspondent.* The old weather-beaten parochial church of St. David * "The re&l CAiue why tlie cburcli lias not yet been repMred ia^ that at present) it is not wanted for the aocommodation of any part of the population of Brecon, which is sufficiently provided for elsewhere, so that if restored at this moment, it would answer no purpose but that of gratifying the eye and the feelings of those who take an interest in the fabric. This is so clear, that the xmder-eecretary of the Eccle- siastical Commissioners (into whose hands the funds of the college are passing for the augmentation of small liviogs) having, some months back, examined the building, and made himself acquainted with the fetate of the case, expressed his opinion that it would be better to let it go to decay, and that, at all eyents, the Ecclesiastical Com* missioners would not feel themselves justified in applying any of the funds derived from the college to its restoration. Nevertheless, a hope is entertained that, if the college school (which has been in a declining state since the establishment of St. David's College, at Lampeter) can be revived and enlarged, as has been contemplated, it may, at the same time, be found practicable and expedient to repair the church for the use of the school. Of the persons connected with this establishment, it is but just to add, that they are some of the most hard-working clergymen in the Church of England ; persona who are engaged more laboriously, as well as more usefully, than they would be ii they were every day performing a service in the college church to empty walls." f*i BRECON. 313 is not far from the moaldering remnant of the church of Christ's College. It was formerly situated in a fields and from that circumstance called St. David's in the Field. It possesses little to engage the visitor^ except its age and connection with ancient days. In this parish^ nearly at the foot of the Beacons^ lived the learned Dr. John David Bhys^ the author of the C^tti- raeae lAngvuB Insiitutiones, who pays a high compli- ment to the inhabitants of Brecknockshire in his pre- face to that work. " I believe from my soul/' he says, "that there is no part of the Principality wherein the nobility, gentry, and eommonalty are more worthy, whose mansions are more stately, where the dainties and delicacies of the table are more sumptuous, and the people of all ranks more distinguished for the neatness of their apparel, their kindness, or their hospitality, than the inhabitants of the county of Brecknock.'* ! The town of Brecon contains some excellent public | buildings, amongst which may be reckoned the Market : Hall, built by Mr. Griffiths, of this place, from a design by Mr. Wyatt, of London, at a cost of about 5,000/. ; and a County Hall, erected of pure Bath stone, under the direction of the same talented architect, by Mr. Hancom, of Brecon. This latter is a Grecian building, and forms a beautiful object to greet the traveller's sight as he enters the town by way of Crickhowel. It stands upon an area, along the side of which extends a public promenade, called the Captain's Walk, pleasantly shaded by poplars and sycamores, with the XJsk flowing merrily at its base. The total cost of this building is 814 CRICKHOWSL. about 7^000/.^ and does great credit to the artist and the county. The neighbourhood of Brecon possesses that inde- finable charm which history and romance throw around the wild scenes of Nature. On the north and west lie the scattered fragments of British, and Roman camps and intrenchments^ and the battle-field in| which Welsh independence expired ; on the south and east rise^ in gigantic splendour, the forms of those magni- ficent mountains which have frowned alike on the passing generations of their British, Koman, and Nor- man possessors. Mount Denny, whose divaricated peaks are known by the modem name of the Breck- nockshire Beacons, stretches itself in a southerly direc- tion from Brecknock, tlirough a lengthened succession of undulating ridges, thrown into a variety of fimtastic shapes, over which the clouds sweep in their racking career, or hang in graceful floating drapery of the most exquisite tissue. The more elevated and northern peaks are called Cader Arthur, or the Chair of Arthur. There is both a romantic and historical association with these enormous piles of rocks, as the renowned hero whose name they bear may be contemplated through the fables of poetry or the facts of history. In the phraseology of the bards, a public assembly of their body was always termed the " Chair of Song.'* These minstrel gatherings were invariably made in the open air, on some elevated place, or, in their figurative language, ''under the eye of the sun;*' and as the Knight of the Bound Table, during his reign, held a grand national meeting of the bards, the historian has assigned this majestic hill as the spot to which they CRICKHOWEL. 815 repaired from all parts of the Principality^ and where the institutes of their order were framed.* While the morning dew yet rested upon the green meadows^ I set forward upon my route to Crickhowel. The road — and a cheerful one it is — ^runs along an elevated ridge that bisects the valley, and passes through the little places of Llanhamlach, Seethrog, and Llan- saintfread, and ascends the mountain-pass of Bwlch. On the right of the traveller flows the lively Usk, with the musical waters of the Cynrig, the Tarrell, and the * It may be to the adyantage of the tourist to inform him in this place, that one of the best views of the Beacons is obtained from the lawn at the western end of the Castle Inn. Although apparently only about two miles distant, I found the ascent occupied several hours of persevering exertion. Taking the Merthyr road as far as Llyn y celyn, I branched off to the left, passing through the opening between the hills, called Gwm-Uwch, to the summit of the highest eminence. The scene was indescribably grand : westerly, lay Llyn cwm-Uwch, a small lake below the Beacons, at a height probably of 2,500 feet above the sea ; beyond it the farm of Ty-mawr, the highest on the mountains ; below which is the road from Merthyr to Brecon, and in the extreme distance, Moel fendy and the Carmarthenshire hills. To the north were traced, as in a map, the divisions of land below, dotted here and there with whitewashed houses ; beyond, the town of Brecon and the river Usk; and bounding the distant horizon, the hills near Builth. On the east, the lake of Llynsfiiddu and the Cradle Moun- tains. Southerly, a stupendous range of mountains, one rising beyond the other as far as Merthyr Tydvil, and more westerly to Pont Neath Vaughan. The vapours that sometimes invest the Beacons are so dense, that the traveller is in danger of filing over its precipitous side. The officers of a regiment, lying at Brecon, once made the ascent ; but the night coming on, the thick mist covered the summit like a shroud, and they were obliged to remain in that uncomfortable situation till the following morning afforded them the means of a safe descent. Dr. Johnson says : " He that mounts precipices, wonders how he came there, and doubts how he shall return. His walk is an adventure, and his departure an escape." 316 ROAD TO CRICKUOWEL. Mahasdn^ meandering through the vale to swell its broad channel ; and the villages of Cantreff, Llanfry- nach^ and Llanfigan lying near its banks, shut in by the enormous range of the Brecknockshire Beacons. AU this is classic ground. Here it was that the Roman general had his campus testivus, or summer residence^ with those appliances of luxury which that refined people ever associated with their dwelling-places. Here, too, was the battle-field and Druidical sepulchres of noble Britons, who struggled and fell in defence of their patrimonial and national rights. Here, also, the birthplace of learned men, renowned in science, and deeply versed in the lore of philosophy and divinity. Not far from the Bwlch pass the river makes a horse- shoe bend, near the point of which is the hamlet of Llandetty, and within its curve may be distinctly seen the mansion and grounds of Buckland. On the ex- treme left stretch the bleak summits of the Black Mountains, and underneath them lies Brecknock Mere, called severally Llynsavaddan Lake, or Llangorse Pool, with the little hamlets of Llangasty tSl y Uyn, Llan- gorse, and Cathedine. Not far from the first of these places, in the parish of Llanhamlach, is a farm called Mannest, and near it a hillock, upon which is the cromlech known under the name of Saint lUtid's Her- mitage.* The elevated region of Bwlch places all these * Of this holy man, the father of leammg in South Wales, and whose fame lives in Brecknockshire, it is becoming just to give a slight sketch. St. Illtid came from Armorica to Britain with St. Grermanus, to preach down the Pelagian heresy, and founded a seminary at Llantwit, in Glamorganshire, which flourished for several centuries, and produced many learned and pious fathers of the British Church. " When this object was accomplished, and he saw his school rising in ROAD TO CRICKHOWEL. 817 in beautifal perspective before the traveller's eye; and such is the extent of the prospect^ that he may gaze upon it for hours with ever fresh delight. The pass has been cut through the heart of the Bwlch mountain^ on which a comfortable inn has been built in opposition to the ancient hostelrie^ and now the Old and the New Star shine in rivalry to each other for the solace of the weary traveller. From this place the road rapidly descends to Crickhowel, with the solitary vestige of Tretower Castle close to the stream of the RhiangoU on the left, which ought to detain for awhile the pilgrim^s foot, were it only to recall the scenes of its past history, and to regale his eye with the wild flowers which now flourish in unmolested seclusion, where nobles and knights had used to meet together in council, or from which they hurried forth to war.* Farther on, Glanusk, the man- sion of Mr. Bailey, who is said to be the wealthiest iron-master in Great Britain, rises beautifully on the right bank of the river, with its bridge in architectural keeping with the style of the building; and on the other side, in a more elevated situation, Penngarth, the fiune, and his diadples qualified to protect and support the institation, he did not confine his talents or his labours to a college or a county, but commiserating the state of intellectual darkness with which the IVincipality was then OTerspread, he ooaceived it his duty to com- municate the light and truths oi the Gk>8pel, and the precepts of wisdom, to the inhabitants of Breconshir^ where undoubtedly he resided." Many tales are told ot St. lUtid, one of which is, that he had an animal half a horse and half a stag, that used to bring his provisions firom market. * The defence of this castle, at the time of Glyndwr*s insurrection, was intrusted to Sir James Berkley. A branch oi the great Roman road, called the Strata Julia, passed through the yillage of Tretower, to the station of Gaer, in Cwmdu. 318 VALLEY OP THE USK. residence of his son ; and Owemvale^ the seat of Mr. Gwynne.* The traveller now enters the little town of Crickhowel by the old embattled gateway^ which once formed part of the castellated mansion of the first Herberts. There are few of the &ir prospects of earth that can equal the valley of the Usk. It does not consist^ like many others, of a strip of fertile land, formally guarded by elevated ridges, and jealously confined within limits, over which the eye can sweep at one view; but it throws itself out into a series of verdant circles, as- cending the hill-sides, and dipping down to the brink of the flowing river. The gigantic barriers in the ex- treme distance consist of the Brecknockshire Beacons on one side, and the dark range of the Black Moun- tains on the other. From the champaign lying within these, spring mountain after mountain of inferior ele- vation, with tiny vales running from their bases, and filling the intervening space with fallowed fields and green meadows, or else, it may be, embracing narrow friths, through which run the whimpering rivulets that feed the noble stream, shadowed by foliage, and dressed in all the coloured pigments of the season. The rest- less eye of the traveller ranges along the outline of the landscape which lies within his vision, and descending to the green bottom, he fancies that the Usk has dis- closed all the beauties that lie upon its banks ; but as his step advances, he throws his gaze upon another and another still fairer prospect, endlessly diversified by the sinuous outUnes of the mountains, which again and * The celebrated Dr. Croxall, translator of ** iEsop*B Fables," and author of Tarious other worka^ formerly redded in thia maanon. VALLEY OF THE USK. 319 again rise to direct his sight along their swelling breasts, and deep recesses. This is truly the " Valley of Sweet Waters/' where early Spring, with her cuckoo voice, calls up young life from the cradle of the year; where Sununer revels, and '' the great sun,'' " Robed in flames and amber light/ makes his regal procession along a sky of pure cobalt, shedding his brightest beams on mountain-peak and hoary hill, and descending, like an angel visitor, to cheer up every sheltered nook ; where Autumn pours from her horn the rich treasures she has gathered from the rolling seasons, and paints the woods with the glowing hues of the skies. The gentle rains descend on this favoured valley, from the " high chambers" of the cloudy firmament, and the bride of Zephyrus covers the teeming land with a spangled garment of many colours. The gladsome Usk, like a traveller bent on a long pilgrimage, hurries forward, making incessant music, and adding its hoarse bass notes to the clear trebles of the woods. A liquid harmony floats through the air, and the late and early tints mingle in grateful composure over the beautiful complexion of Nature. River, and field, and forest, are full of rejoicing life. Sunbeams, and '' frolic winds,'' and shadows of the passing clouds, chase each other over the flowery land- scape. Heaven smiles on Earth, and Earth gives back her incense and her melody. Nor is this all. It is not Nature dwelling alone amidst her secret haunts, or walking pensively through her sweet solitudes ; but it is man, immortal man, dwelling with Nature — congre- gated into villages occupying the most beautiful spots i 320 VALLEY OP THE USK. of the YzWej, with homesteads fraught with domestic affections^ and sanctuaries figuring out to the thought- ful mind another and a better country^— or households nestling round the private hearth in lovely vale or bosky dingle^ — or whitewashed cottages on mountain- side, or even mountain-top. It is beautiful Nature, like a young mother, with her sleeping infant on her lap, or with her gathered families of earth, laughing and playing at her feet. Such is the valley of the Usk, of which a native poet of the seventeenth century has thus sung : — "May thy gentle Bwaines like flowers Sweetly spend their youthiol hours. And thy beauteous nymphs like doves Be kind and faithful to their loves. Garlands, and songs, and roundelays, Mild dewie nights and sunshine dayes. The turtle's voice, joy without fear, Dwell on thy bosom all the year — The faotour winds from hr shall bringe The gathered odours of the springe. And loaden with the rich arrear. Spend them in spicie whispers here.*' Crickhowel, which Leland calls ''a preati tounlet, standing in the valley upon Wyske,'' is built on the shelving side of a gentle hill. It is of considerable antiquity, and is supposed to have been founded by Howel Dda, in the tenth century. There are but few fragments of its ancient castle remaining, save one dis- mantled tower, now overgrown with ivy, and the ruins of a gateway, both of them performing servile offices very much at variance with their former dignity. The keep, or citadel, once occupied a lofty artificial mound. CRICKHOWEL. 321 whose slopes are now covered with trees of considerable growth^ and so elevated^ that the eye commands from it a range of the most interesting objects in this pic- turesque district. Traces of broken walls may be seen ; and the grass-green field that lies at the gazer's foot constituted, most probably, the inner and outer Valiums of the old fortress. This castle was fortified by Sir John Pauncefote, under a commission firom Henry IV., to resist the forces of Owen Glyndwr, by whom, according to the obscure records that remain, it was eventually taken and demolished. Sir Ehys ap Thomas, when he was marching to Shrewsbury, to meet Henry the Seventh, passed through Crickhowel, and planted the standard of that monarch on the top of a street, which has been called from that circumstance, Standard Street. The church, which is cruciform in its style, and dedicated to St. Edmund the king and martyr,"^ by which name the parish was anciently called, is dis- tinguished by having the only spire in the county of Brecknock. It contains two old monuments to the Pauncefote family ; a more modem one in alabaster of Sir John Herbert, knight, and Joan, his wife; an exquisitely sculptured tablet to the Rev. H. Vaughan, late vicar of the parish, of whom the good people of Crickhowel speak in terms of great affection; and a * Hiifl royal mint, as hiBtories inform us, wm maaaacred by the Danish general Hinguar, about the. year 871. The Btory of his death, as related by a monkish writer, quoted by Camden, marks the barbarity of the times in which he lived : ** He was bound to a tree and had his body all oyer mangled with arrows ; to increase his pain, they did with showers of arrows make wound on wound, till the darts gave place to one another." — Jona^$ ffiatory of JSredcnode, Y 322 LLANGATTOCK. monument in white marble to Mrs. Gwynne, of Gwem- vale^ presenting a beautiful figure of a female leaning upon an anchor^ surmounted by a dove bearing an olive branch. An old effigy in steel cap and chain armour, and another of the warrior's lady-love, lie, in a muti- lated condition, within the recesses of two arches, behind the seats of Glan-y-Bafon and Dan-y-Castle, as if in these modem days they were to be cast like worthless things away, though they are considered to represent the ancient founders, or re-founders, of the church. The churchyard is an interesting spot, and has some fine specimens of the willow and poplar tribes. The old gateway before mentioned gives its name of Forth mawr to a modem mansion, the residence of Mr. Ormerod, and is worth looking through for the beautiful perspective it affords of the surrounding scenery, including Glanusk and Penmiarth, the Bwlch hills, the spreading vale, and the winding river. The village of Llangattock lies at an easy distance on the opposite side of the Usk, and was too tempting an object to be left unvisited by the Wanderer. The church is an ancient structure, dedicated to St. Cadog, who lived about the middle of the fifth century ; but it has been frequently repaired, and is in some degree modernized. The old porch is the most venerable part of it, and contains the original font for holy water, belonging to our fathers of the " ancient faith." The walls sustain many monuments, but none particularly interesting for their design or execution. The vestry is modem, and fitted up in excellent taste, the whole of which was the munificent gift of Mr. Bailey, of Glan- LLANOATTOCK. 323 usk. The churchyard possesses an old mutilated cross, and manifold painted monuments of the dead, in which are the memorials of extraordinary longevity, that prove the salubrity of this place, — five inscriptions making up the long term of five hundred years. Two "gnarled yews of deep undated roof fling their ve- nerable branches over this place of sepulture, and on the outside of the wall is the most magnificent walnut, for age and size, and breadth of limb, that is, perhaps, to be found in the kingdom. In the limestone rock above the village, is a large cavern, called Eglwys Faen, or the Bock Church ; and in this parish is the Carno Mountain, where a severe battle was fought between Roderick Molwynog, prince of North Wales, and Ethelbald, king of Merda, in the eighth century ; two carn%^ still remain to mark the spot. Every one who travels to this comer of the county of Brecknock, at least every one that has an eye and a soul for the marvellous beauties with which the Grod of Nature has adorned this earth, stays his wandering foot upon the bridge that is thrown across the Usk between Crickhowel and Llangattock, to contemplate the scenery which discloses itself on either side. This pontile structure is built of hard granite, and consists of thirteen arches, some of which are covered in part with ivy. From the bend of the river the upper reach extends to a short distance, and, but for the lively current, would have the appearance of an inland lake, fringed by a wood of bowing branches that dip them- selves in the stream. Beyond is a revelation of the open face of nature, with all its extraordinary and beautiful features, comprehending the magnificent out- Y 2 824 LLANGATTOCK. line of the Black Mountains marked on the fiiur-off horison to the right ; the Bwlch range travermng the distant plain ; the green hill that shuts in Crickhowel ▼ale ; the Tale itself in all its colours and boundaries^ with the merry river singing its ceaseless song to the pleasant homesteads that rise upon its enamelled banks. Below the bridge, the river descends the rapids with a thundering torrent^ as if in fellowship with the majesty of the surrounding scenery. On the right are the limestone rocks of Llangattock, worn and cut into a thousand fantastic forms, and reflecting back the light in coloured hues, richly harmonizing with the mingled foliage which the eye embraces. In front is the Bloiens range, lying against the sky like a huge serpent; and on the left the cone of the Sugar-loaf Mountain, and the elevated tump called the Table Hill. It is l^furdly possible for an intelligent mind to become conscious of the ineffable delight produced by the beauties and sublimities of nature, and the deep and mysterious thought, of which they are the source, without admit- ting the goodness of that Great Being, who has miper^ added this enjoyment to the mere exercise of the faculties by which they are perceived. It is through His benevolence, that every scene becomes to man the minister of improvement and gratification, — '' the sun, th^ earth, the ocean, the mountain's towering height, the green and golden vale stretching far out below ' its mantle gay.' ''And evexy odorous plants and brighter thing, Bom of the sonny akief, and weeping rain, That, from the bosom of the Spring, Starts into life and beauty onoe again.' i\ J < - ;7 LLANTONY ABBEY. 325 Let the traveller^ then, whose heart and eye are thus instructed and delighted, thank God^ and go forward. In a deep recess of the Black Mountains, at the extremity of the county of Monmouth, and occupying the gloomy vale of Ewias, stand the shattered ruins of Llantony Abbey.* As if in unison with the barren rocks that environ it, scarcely a single tendril of green ivy has crept up the surfac'e of its solemn walls, to hide the severe simplicity of its monastic architecture ; and but here and th^e a stripling shrub surmounting its parapets, throws its brief shadow over the crumbling fragments of the sacred pile. The ponderous roof, and the southern and eastern walls, lie prostrate on the ground ; but the pointed arches, reposing on massy piers, with a series of small circular arches, and fragments of elaborate mouldings, remain to show the corresponding magnificence of those parts of the structure which they sustained and adorned, and to prove' the mixed Saxon and Norman style of this fine edifice. A portion of the great tower yet exists, and the western front still stands in solitary grandeur. The valley, which formerly afforded employment for the holy brotherhood, now yields its scanty herbage to the browsing flocks of the neighbouring farmer; and some ancient trees, at * Giialdns has described Ewias after this manner : " A valley in Wales, not &rre from Brecknock, where stoade a religious house, called Llanthodoni. It is so encompassed with hilles round about, that Koger, the byshop of Salisbury, was wont to saye merely of it» that ' al the king's treasure would not suffise to make a cloyster to this house/ At this place had Gyraldus Cambrensis a house and lyvinge to it." Llantony Abbey is distant from Crickhowel about seven miles ; and the varied and majestic scenes which present them- selves on every hand, will furnish interesting subjects for a day's pilgrimage. 326 LLANTONY ABBEY. different points^ mark in their green and yellow leaf, the passage of the seasons^ and remain as the grey chroniclers of this dreary solitude. The brawling Honddi, swelled by the mountain torrents^ rolls a fret- ful tide over its bed of broken rocks, and washes the southern side of the valley. Behind the ruins rise the Hatterell Hills, or, as they are sometimes called, the Mountains of Ewias, and beyond them the rocky peaks of the Black Mountains, over which the foot of man. has scarcely ever trod, seeming as if to shut in this little spot from the observation of all the world. Llantony Abbey was of the Cistercian order, and its history is to be gathered from the traditions of the early times. The legends teU that Saint David, the uncle of the renowned King Arthur, when he first beheld this solitary valley, was charmed with its entire seclusion from the world, and built a chapel on the spot. "Here wm it, sinnger, that the patron a&int Of Cambria passed his age of penitence, A solitary man ; and here he made His hermitage, the roots his food, his drink Of Honddi's mountain stream." One day, carried far out of his track in pursuit of the wild deer, which haunted these savage hills, a knight retainer of the earl of Hereford came unexpectedly upon the saint's retreat. The knight was struck with awe at the deep solemnity of the place. He saw the little hermitage, and near it the recess where the holy man performed his early devotions, in which was placed a small crucifix, and those emblems of mortality which the grave supplies. The mysterious air that pervaded LLANTONY ABBEY. 827 the scene into whicli he was thus suddenly introduced, and the complete silence that reigned around, broken only by the sullen murmur of the Honddi's stream, filled the mind of the knight with devout enthusiasm. He instantly forsook his chivalrous career — withdrew from all connection with the world, and, in the words of the record, " laid aside his belt, and girded himself with a rope ; instead of fine linen he covered himself with hair-cloth ; and instead of his soldier's robe, he loaded himself with weighty irons. The suit of armour, which before defended him firom the darts of his ene- mies, he still wore as a garment to harden himself against the soft temptations of his old enemy Satan ; that as the outward man was afflicted with austerity, the inner man might be secured for the service of God. That his zeal might not cool, he thus crucified himself, and continued his hard armour on his body until it was worn out with rust and age.'' The fame of the anchorite's sanctity drew one devout associate to his cell, Ernest, confessor to Maud, wife of Henry I., and inspired many wealthy and powerful nobles with great reverence for his character. Amongst the latter was Hugh de Lacey, who founded the priory of the order of St. Austin, on the site of the little hermitage. Llan- tony Abbey has experienced strange vicissitudes, and has been the subject of many whimsical circumstances, in the course of its eventful history, till it was finally suppressed, with that of the same name in Gloucester- shire, at the Reformation. Thus ends the legend of " LUntony, famed in monkish tale, And once the pride of Kwiae' vale." 328 LLANTONY ABBEY. A coQtinuouB histoiy of that division of the Princi- pality to which this work belongs^ did not enter into the Wanderer's plan^ but only such occasional sketdies as were connected with the scenes and objects which came before his eye. He found, however, in the book of that old geographer Peter Heylyn, a summary which he deemed would not be unacceptable to his readers, and this he gives in the chronicler's own words : — " The princes of South Wales are : — 877 1 Cadell. 2 HOBLL. 907 8 HoBLL Dra. 948 4 OwxK. 5 Ekkas. 6 Thiodorb ths Gbbat. 1077 7 Rhxss I. 1093 8 Griffin I. 9 Rhkbx II. 10 Griffin II. In whom ended the line of the princes of South Wales, after they had with great stru^ling maintained their liberty^ the space of 300 yeares, or thereabout. The English Nobility had at severall times plucked msny Townes, Lordships, and almost whole Shires, from this principate ; which were all againe recovered by this last Griffin ; who not long enjoying his victories, left the fruits of them to his two sonnes, Cynerick and Mere- dith ; both whom our Henry Second tooke, and put out their eyes. Yet did the Welchmen, as well as in such a time of calamity they could, wrestle and tugge for their liberty, till the felicitie of Edward the First put an end to bUl the warres and troubles in these parts.'' The last chapter of a book is something like the last day of a long and friendly visit. The sojourner spends it in adjusting all claims at the house of his host — in CONCLUSION. 329 winding up the long family stories — and in leave-taking amongst all the acquaintances he has happened to make. The Wanderer over Cambria's land of marvels and minstrelsy has sought to fulfil the pretensions with which he took up his palmer's staff, *'And wore hU sandal-Bhoon and scoUop-BhelL" He now closes his book of legends; — and to all those surpassing beauties of mountain, hill, and valley; of open sea, and broad river, and whispering stream, associated, as they have been, with the most stirring passages of history, poetry, and romance ; chequered, too, by the gay sunshine and the dark storm, — ^the roving joy and weary pain of a long pilgrimage — he bids a last and lingering Farewell. ''There is » pleasure in the pathless woods. There is a rapture in the lonely shore. There is society where none intrudes. By the deep sea, and musio in its roar ; I lore not man the less, but Nature more. From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, To mingle with the universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal." i INDEX. Abbbts of Cwm Hir, 72 — Margam, 264— Llantony, 325— Strata Flo- rida, 28-27— 'nntern, 148-153. AfiEBEDW Hill, 90— Village, 91— Gantle, 91— SnDBet, 91. Abbbowili, Tillage of, 21 9— Bishop's palace, 219— MerUn's HiU, 220. Abebtstwith, ita delightful situa- tion, 8 — ^ViewB from, 8 — Castle hUl, 4— Streets of, 10— Marine terrace, 10 — Perilous situation of a sloop, 11 — Skilful captain, 12— Ghost stories, 12— Church of, 12 —Wild flowers, 18— Beach of, 13 — ^Amuaements, 14 — ^Bathing, 15 — Fishing, 15. Abbbtstwith Castle, 5— History o( 5— Taken by Glyndwr, 7— Glyndwr's palace, 8. Baolahd, 262— Mason, the poet, 262. Banaoob Cbaos, 154. BOBHEBTON MeEB, 187. BouoHBOOD Castle, 92. Bbeokkock Mebb, 40. Bbecknock Castle, ancient name of, 804— History of, 805 — Priory church, 309 — St Maiy's church, 810. Bbbckkockbhibe, remarks on, 800. Bbeoon, buildings of, 818 — ^neigh- bourhood r>f, 814. Bbidoend, 266. BuoKLAin), 816. Bbookwsib, 147. Builth, 86— Park wells, 89. Builth Castle, history of, S6^^ The final retreat of Llewelyn, 87 — "Bradwyr Buallt," 87— Flight of Llewelyn, 88— Death of, 88. Caxbphillt Castle^ description of, 279— Monastery, 280— History o^ 280. Cabaooo of Llaboabvah, 29. CABDmr, history of, 272— Town of, 275. Cabdioan, 204— Excursions from, 205. Cabdioak Bat, 8— Formerly a tract of land covered with cities, 4^ Beautiful view of, 62. Cabdioan Castle, 204 — ^Histoiy o( 204. Cabdioahshibe, sceneiy of, 87-59. Cabew, yiUage of, 188. Cabew Castle, appearance of, 188 — ^Reddence of Welsh princes, 189— Feetivitius at, 189— Age of, 190— Early cross, 190. Cabmabthen, situation of, 218— S32 INDEX. Hirtoiy o( 214— Chnroli of St. Peter, S15— Monnmenti^ 216— Sir TbomM Pioton, 217. Casbio Cxmrxir Cabtim, hutoiy o( 280. Cabtli Coch, 274. Cabtlu or Abeiyitwith, 6 — ^Aber- edw, 91— BuUth, Sd-CMrphiUj, 279— Carew, 188— CMtlifUi, 204 •^Cnrreg Gennen, 280 — Chep- stow, 167^Cooh, 274— Dvnra- ven, 269 — Dyneror, 228— Good- rich, 128— Haverfordwest, 195— Hay, 95— KidweUy, 288— KH- garran, 207 — Llangoed, 92 — Llewhaden, 198— Maeelough, 92 — Manorbeer, 170 — ^Oystermonth, 258— Pembroke, 175— Pennarth, 259— Pioton, 195— Preeteign, 78 —Radnor, 76— St QnintiD, 270 —Tenby, 165 — WUton, 118 — Yfttradmeurig, 86. Chspotow Gastlb, 157— By whom built, 158— Entrance to, 158— Hall, 159 — Subterranean yaults, 159 — ^Monastio remains, 160 — Bridge on the Wye, 161— The Wye, 162. Clsddon Shoots, 147. Clifford Cabtli, 94— Birthplace of Fair Rosamond, 95 — Histoiy of Rosamond, 95 — ^Anecdote of Lady Anne Clifford, 96— Site of castle, 97. CoiTT, village of, 268. COLDWXLL ROCKB, 181. CoFPXB AND Lead Mines of Car- diganshire, 56 — History of, 56 — Mines of Daren, 59. CoTTAOis, Welsh, 43 — Chimneys, 44. CowBBIDOl^ 271— Gothie gate, 271. CmAiOTDniAS, 292— BreBtide, 895. Ceaio-t-UiTK, 288. CucKHOwn^ 815 — Antiqiiity o^ 820— Chunsh o^ 821. CB06SW00D, seat of Lord Lisborae, 24 — Rostio mills, 25— Mountain straams, 25— PwU Ckradoo, 26. CwM Elan, 75-^8. CwM PoBTH Cavbbn, 299. Ctnbio Bxvmb, 815. Ctnwtl Elfid, 212. Davtdd AFGwiLTif, 29^2— Poetry 0(88. Ditil*b Bbidos, road to^ 15 — Glen of the Bheidiol, 16— Chann of the Mynadh, 16— Hie bridge, 16— Fearftil Soene, 17 — Four fiUls, 18— Plant Mat^ 18— Byron's lines on the Falls of Fenii, 19— Hafod Anns Inn, 19. DowABD Hill, 188. BrISB of ten WiLSB LABfllB, 84 —Hats, 85. Bruidical Stbuctuxx, 42. Dbtsltn Castli, 217-222. DuNRATBM Castls, 269— History of, 269. Dtnnvob Park, 226— Beautiful view, 227— CasUe, 228— Round tower, 229. Eptnt Mountains, 801. £?rxNNT Pbiort, 266— Towers of, 267 — Church o^ 267 — Revenues o( 268. Fishguard, 199— Salubrity o^ 200. French Embarkino at Llanwnda, 230 — Driven away by Welsh women in red cloaks, 201. INDEX. 338 Gabth Hill, 92. GioiFBBT or MoKMOUTB, 28— Brat 7 Brenhineodd, 29. OmALDUS Oambbbnbis, birthplaoe 0^171— HiBtoiy 0^171. Olasbubt, 92. Goats, 88. gookbddan, 59. Golden Gbovx, 281. GooDBiOH CouBT, 114— Site o( 115 — ItB architectorey 115 — Orna- ments, 116 — Pictures, 118 — Asiatic armoury, 118 — Painted window, 119— Grand annonrj, 121— Charles I., 122— Doucean Museum, 122— Chapel, 128 — Remarks, 124~ChiTali7, 125— Heraldry, 126. GooDBiOH Castle, appeanmce of, 128— Gateway, 129. GooDwiCK Beach, 200. GBONaAB Hill, 217-228— Boman Camp, 224— Dyer, 224. Gbufftdd ap Bhts, 5. GwENDBAXTH, Stream o^ 256. Hatod, road to, 20— Picturesque arch, 20— Beautiful yiew, 21— Mansion, 21 — Cumberland's de- scription of, 22— Grounds o^ 22 — Colonel Johnes, 22 — Cwm Tstwith, 28. Habbwood, 109. Hatxbiobowbst, situation o( 194 —Castle oi; 195. Hat, 98— Histoiy of, 94. HXFSTE BlVEB, 297. Hebxfobd, 100— Cathedral, 100— Histoiy of, 101— Monuments, 102 — PulpitHsross, 104— Dinedor hill, 105— Beautiful view, 106. HSBirOBD8HIBE VlLLAOIS, 97. Ithov Rivbb, 85. Kenabth, church and Tillage of, 209. Ebnohbstbb, 99 — Eaton eamp, 99. KmwELLT, 288— History oi; 288. KiDWELLT Castle, 288. EiLOABBAN Castle, 207— Histoiy of, 208. Ktxik, The, 188— The Backstone, 189. Lakes of— Five lakes, 89— Llyn Fach, 289— Llyn Pawr, 289— Llyn Sayaddan, 40— Llyn Teiyy, 89— Llyn Vathey, 40— Llyn yr A&nge, 87. Laxfhet Palace, ruins of, 178 — Curious epitaph on Agatha Wellsbum, 174— Loneliness of, 174. Lewis Mobbis, the Welsh anti- quary, 9. LmsTip, fine view from, 169. Llanbadabk, 9— St. Padam, 8— Church of, 8— Monuments in, 9 — ^Lewis Morris, 9. Llaedait, 275— Cathedral of, 276 —History o^ 277. Llaedbglbt, 81. Llaedilo Fawb, 225 — Countiy round, 225— History o( 226. Llaedooo, Tillage of, 147. Llanbllt, 257. Llavoaitock, 822. Llavoobd Castle, 92. LLAEauBio, 68— Public house, 68. LLAKraEPBAV Castle, account of, 168— Village, 169. { 334 INDEX. liLAirroirT Abut, 825~Mm68 o( 825— HiBtorj o( 826. Llakwbthwl, 84. Llich Ctvok, 41. Llbwhaokx Cabtlb, 198. Lltk Face, 289. Lltn Fawb, 289. Lltk Vathbt CaiKOLAfly 40— Site of the a&dent dtj of Tregaron, 40. Maislouoh Cabtle, 92. Makobbub, village o( 170. Manobbbeb Oastlb, mine of, 170 — Stately magnitude of, 170 — Birthplace of GinJdue Cambren- eiBi 171— Beeoription of, 172— Ezteneiye proepecte^ 172 — ^Baj^ 178. Maboax, 268. Maboam Pabb:, 268 — Abbey o( 264. Mbltb Riveb, 297. Mbbun, life of, 220. MiLFOBD Havxit — Pennar Mouth, 191— Striking acene, 192— Town of, 192— Ship on fire, 198. MOOOAS COUBT, 98. Monmouth, approach to, 188 — Priory, 184— Geoffrey of Mon- mouth, 184 — Appearance of Monmouth, 185— Trade of, 186 — ^Bridge, 187 — ^Ancient inetitu- tion, 187. Monmouth Cabtlx, 184. Mountain Patbiots, 65. Mountains of Aberedw, 90 — Fawr, 98— Gam Englyn, 208— Graig y Dinae, 292 — Doleyan Hill, 85— Bpynt, 801— Gwasta- den, 88 — Plinlimmon, 66 -* Bhiwgraig, 85 — ^Yrenny Fawr, 208. Mumblb'b Liohthoubx, 258. Mtdolktov, Sib Hugh, 57. Kanot Fujx, 55. Nant £08 Pabk, 24— Itfl beaaUfii] situation, 24. Nbath, 260— River of, 261— Val« of, 289. Kewcabtli Emltn, 210— Beautiful Buneet, 211. Newfobt, 208— Druidical remainj at, 204. Newfobt Cabtlx, 208. OwxN Gltndwb, 7, 8, 66, 76. Otstebmouth Castlb, 258 — Village of, 259. Pembbx Hill, 256. Pkmbbokb, situation of, 177 — Gat« of, 178— Churches o^ 178— Plea eant walks from, 179 — Dockyard, 179 — Pater vilhige, 179 — St Govan's Head, 180 — Stackpol< Court, 181. Pbmbbokb Castlb, ruins of, 175— Vast extent o^ 1 75 — Desonptioo o^ 176— History of "Nest," 176 — Cromwell's attack on, 177- PSNALT, church of, 144 — Ancieni custom, 145 — Autumn, 145. Pbnlinb Castlx, 271. Pbnnabth Castle, 269 — ^Arthur'a Stone, 260— Our Lady's Well, 260. Picton Castle, park of, 195 — Architecture o( 196 — Remark by Mr. Fenton, 196. PnsBCEFisLD Pabk, extent of, 155 INDEX. 835 sera SI 203. j,25S-Vil!si of, 177-^*' o!, IJ^^ on, IJ""' ^Artinr'i |;'8 Well, oV55 — Majeetic woods, 166 — Mr. Yalentine Morris, 166— Llancaut Crags, 167 — Splendid view, 167. Plinldocon, hiBtoric annals of, 66 — ^The source of five rivers, 67. PUKLDCMON Hotel, 66. Pont ab Cotht, stream o^ 221. Pont Hebwid, 63. Pont Neath Vauohan, 293. Pont Pwll Gwtn, 304. Pont Rhtdfendig AID, 27 — Small inn, 84. Pont t Pbibd, 284 — Bridge of, 284— Water&ll, 286. Pbestteion, 78— Wapley Hill, 78. Pbesteign Castle, 78. Pbincbs of South Wales, 328. Eadnob, 76 — Old Radnor, 77 — Leland, 77 — Stanner Bocks, 77 — KniU Court, 77— Vale of, 79— Water-break-its-neck, 80— Wild glen, 80. Radnor Castle, 76. Ragland Castle, beauty of, 140 — "Visits of Charles L, 141— Foun- twn Court, 142— Parks, 142. Redbbook, 146— Pen y van Hill, 146. Rhal^tb, 70 — Bridge of, 72 — Delightful valley, 72. Rheidiol Riveb, 4, 9, 63 — Pictu- resque mill, 66— Chasm, 64. Rhianooll Riveb, 317. Rhondda Riveb, 286. Rhts, Db. John David, 313. RiVBBS OF Castell, 64— Clewedog, 72 — Cothey, 221— Elan, 76— Hepste, 297— Irvon, 86— Ithon, 85— Melte, 297— Neath, 260— Purthen, 291— Rhondda, 285— Rheidol, 4, 9, 68— Tiff, 168, 276, 283— Teivy, 27, 37, 204— Towey, 168— Usk, 303— Wye, 61, 67, 82, 97, 147, 162— Ystwith, 4. RoBESTON Wathen, 197— Agree- able companion, 197 — Pictures, 198. RosEMABT Topping, 131. Ross, 109— Kyrle, 109— Coleridge, 110— Church of, 110— Ehn trees, 111— Story of. 111— "The pro- spect," 111— May Hill, 112— WUton, 113. Sib Rhts ap Thohas, 236, 266. Slebeck, 197. South Wales^ compared with the North, 1 — More rife in historical associations, 2. St. Donatt's Castle, 270. St. Govan, promontory of, 184 — Loneliness of, 186. St. Quintin's Castle, 270. Stackpole Coubt, noble park of, 181 — Description of, 1 82— Lovely prospect, 183. Steele, Sib Richabd, 218. SuoABLOAF Mountain, 324. Supebbtitions, 48 — Corpse candle^ 48 — Cwm Annwm, 49 — Doomed families, 61 — Anecdote, 62 — Sin- eater, 62 — Anecdote, 68 — ^Fairies, 64. Swansea, situation o( 268 — Bay of, 268. Stmond*s Yat, 132. Table Hill, 824. Taff Riveb, 283. Tal t Bont Yale, 199. Taliesin's Bed, 60. 886 INDEX. Tabbsu. Biyvb, 81& Tatlob, Db. Jbbsmt, S81. Tbivt, livtr ot, 27, 87, 204 — Beftven, 87— Barton'i Aooonnt o( 88— Likke of, 39. l^UffBT, its BituAtton, 164— Oaldy laUnd, 164 — ^Far-exteDding Tiew, 164— Cboroh, 165— Momunentiiy 165— Mode of Uving at, 166— Yaofating, 167— The TtM and Towey, 168. Tbnbt Castlb, dilapidated wallii of, 165. TarnsBJX Abbbt, poBition o( 148 — EjEtent of rnin, 148 — Distant landscape, 149 — Books, 150 — Monuments, 150 — History o( 151— Prospects from, 152— First sight o^ 152 — ^Musings on, 153 — Moss oottage, 153. TiKTBBB PaBYA, 147. TowBT, vale o( 222. Tbboabov, ancient city of, 40. Tbelboh, dniidical antiquities, 143. Tbxtoweb Oabtlb, 817. Tbot Housb, 143. UsK Vallbt, 818. UfiK BnrsB, 808. Watmbtalls of Melte, 801— Pur- tlien, 291— Pont y Pridd, 285— Bhondda, 285 — Teivy, 209 — Water-break-its-neok, 80. Wbddinob, 46. Wblbh CovtAQMBB, 45— Dtsss o^ 45— Food o( 45. Wblbh Tbiao, 2. Wilton Gabtu, 118. WlBDCLnT, 154. Wtb, The, 61— Beautifnl soeneiy of, 68 — Moonlight, 70— Ohasm, 71— Bioh soenety o( 82— Pro- of, 97. Ybowd EnaoK Gabv Watebfali^ 290. YsTBAD Pflub, abbey of, 27 — History of, 27— Its wealth, 28— Its monks the first historians of Wales, 28— Tomb of Dayydd ap Gwilim, 29 — ^Bnins of, 80— Beau- tiful gateway, 80 — ^Lines on« 81 — ^Former greatness o( 31 — ^Pre- sent ohuroh, 82. YSTBAD Mbibio, its excellent school, 35— Edward Bichards, 85— His pastorals, 86— Situation ofYstrad. 86— Castle o( 86— History o( 86. YSTBAD-T-FODWO, 287. rniNTBD IIT cox (BROS.) AND WTMAN, OMKAT QUIKN RTSKKT. M^ 1 I iJOO i